Friday was the 105 Days party for the Boston College graduating class of 2005 – my class. For those unfamiliar with said event (so, anyone who didn’t attend the Boston College) a 105 Days party is the celebration preceding one’s five year college reunion cleverly placed one hundred and five nights prior. See we’re all about pageantry – pageantry and opportunities to donate to the alumni fund…
There are I-have-no-idea-how-many ’05 grads living in the NYC area but whatever the total, that many people descended upon the Downtown Gallway Hooker (little Catholic school irony for ya’) to say, “heeey, how are you?! (insert cheek kiss) I’m gooood!!” in succession for four plus hours.
Now – one of the things I’m most proud of having mastered in the five years leading up to this event is the ability to attach the proper root emotion to a given feeling:
- Girl macks it to one of my strongest contenders for if-we’re-both-still-single-at-40, I feel anger, and now I identify that anger as jealousy.
- Some co-worker who doesn’t deserve a raise gets that raise while I continue to wait in a line, which is really more of a cluster of people in a dark corner, I feel frustration, and I know that frustration is rooted in feeling under-appreciated.
- Mom calls at 9am on a Saturday to ask how she can post something to her Facebook wall that everyone but some teacher friend can see because, “she might not think it’s funny” I feel annoyed, but I know that’s really just unconditional love…
There are many things I am not – good at math, a lover of bananas, at all athletically inclined – but emotionally in-tune I tend to be. Except, apparently, when it comes to the experience of seeing 1/4 of everyone I went to college with five years after we left.
You know when you do some weird form of yoga or pilates and the next morning over brunch you say to Geanna, “I mean, I’m sore in places I didn’t even know existed!” This was like that except in place of muscles it was feelings. So. Many. Feelings.
- 10:43pm: Oh good I think I am aging-in-the-face at a pace on par with my female peers
- 11:07pm: No way! they all live here? Why in the world have we not been hanging out for the past half-a-decade? Oooh, did they just never like me?
- 11:10pm: Sooo, the other ten people in this conversation have a masters degree or above…
- 12:03am: Wow – you just moved out of your parents house?! Oh. And into a two bedroom apartment with your fiance…that you bought.
- 12:35am: Could this be the highest concentration of eligible men I’ve encountered since leaving college? Could this thus mean I blew any/all chance of getting one of them to marry me?
- 1:15am: I can never leave the East Coast, these people are all too much a part of my history!
- 1:16am: So-help-me-god if I am still having this same conversation five more years from now…I should probably move…
- 1:30am: If that DJ-who-looks-uncannily-like-an-urban-Rumplestiltskin announced that we all had to line up from least to most money in our savings accounts, how many people would join me in the “does your 401K money count?” question…
- 1:55am: KRISTIN! That’s her name!
I by-no-means expected to step-ball-change out of this event with a “yep, trackin’ with my peers, feeling secure with my decisions, nostalgic but by no means suicidal!” but I thought I’d at least be able to attach the proper emotion to the shit storm of feelings so I could say, I miss college or I feel unsuccessful or I need to spend time with old friends or I should probably go to grad school. Instead for every thought there was a counter thought – I miss this!/I’m over this…, I loved her!/I hated her…, He was always a good prospect/He’ll never change… I’m proud of where I am!/WTF am I doing with my life…
It used to be that double-fisting vodka sodas (Dear Gil, all drinks purchased for friends over 26 should be delivered in one-glass increments…) with most of your graduating class just lead to mistaken make-outs and awesome morning recap sessions, but fast forward five years and things are a little more…I don’t know-y.
Yes, yes – it’s just a party – just a couple hundred people in your same age bracket drinking alcohol and talking about the surface stuff we all talk about on Friday nights at 1am. But there was something about that room being filled with a group of people who all started at the very same starting line five years ago that made it feel like one massive weigh in…with unkown rules around what counts as good.
I had a blast, saw people I haven’t seen since we left BC and as suspected, spent the most time with the people I see once a week, but I can’t say it didn’t leave me confused? unsettled? or maybe missing something I know I can’t have back and, in a weird way, wonder if I ever really had to begin with…
…and to think that was just a one-night preview of big show. T-minus 104 days…
So – on second thought Gil, please disregard previous request.
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The thing I try to concentrate on, especially if you consider the time you spend after college as a kind of investment (which you’ve made the comparison to in the past), is that different investments pay off in different ways. Some went in heavy from the start, got a big financial job, made tons of money, and are seeing the results of their hard work now. Others have only started putting some time and effort in within the last year or two and find that their investment is just picking up speed.
Some lost because of the choices they made– including jobs, money, partners; some continue to lose; some will continue to win big.
The hardest experiences to keep track of, though, and try to measure against your college counterparts are the long-term, other-than-money-as-a-goal investments that might not pay off until much later, but are in line with what you’ve always wanted.
The reunion shouldn’t be about measuring up, although it feels like it. If I did that, I’d find myself seriously falling behind the curve. Instead, I think of it as a time to meet people I haven’t before and make fun of my friends for slobbering over the same crushes they had 5-9 years ago. As much as some things change (hopefully for the better), there is much to look forward to staying the same.
See you in 102 days.