Been wanting to pay a visit to Iowa to see my nieces, and just now this unexpected e-mail found its way to me, inviting me (more or less) to my 15-year high school class reunion. Maybe it's time for a vacation. I never could resist a hog roast and keg.
subject: hello, friend
I think I have reached the person I intended to– ,...class of 1988. If not, please accept my apology and delete this message.
I have enjoyed myself in tracking you down. What an amazing, wonderful, rich life you are leading! (Do you own that record label, or record on it, or both? I'm fascinated!) It makes me somewhat sheepish to tell you that a reunion is being planned– a hog roast and keg– for next month. It's a long way from Seattle to southern Iowa, both literally and figuratively speaking! I apologize for the short notice, and for being presumptuous. Frankly, I didn't think you'd plan to come, even with months of notice. I'm not sure I want to go and I live just up the road. Scott actually roped me into helping him with a few things, so I feel obligated to go now. It's funny; I live [nearby] and I have not seen anyone we graduated with for years, with the exception of Val. It's probably more sad than funny. I had no idea that [the town where we went to high school] is such an island, but the more I think about it, I think that's exactly what it is.
Things are well with me. My husband and I have four kids. Sarah is almost 14, Kate is 12, Joey is 6, and Andy is 4. I teach English at the high school...and my husband is a sixth-grade teacher. We have a cat and a dog and a mortgage– everything but a white picket fence.
I hope to hear from you. I'd be glad to carry any messages from you to the reunion. You can reach me at this address, of course, or at my school address, which I've listed below.
nostalgic 