Hi! And your name is...

Derrick. My name is Derrick.

This is how much of my evening was spent on New Years, as I went to a veritable mini-TJ reunion. Apparently outside my group of friends no one actually knew me. At all. It's one thing not to remember my name (though honestly, there were like five black guys in our class of 400 tops), since I myself have forgotten quite a few, but it's the whole reaction. The facial expression of, "Did I really go to school with you? I'm sure I would have remembered. Oh, I do remember you, you must have been on the Math Team or something (which at TJ isn't necessarily intended as an insult, but still- and no I was not.)." It was quite a blow to my ego, since I was clearly the coolest piece of shit at Rice.

Before I continue I would like to preface the remainder of my blog by stating that not everyone from TJ was like that, or not even the people who were like that were horrible people, but still. I mean really. And I didn't have anyone to vent to about it while it was happening so I'm doing it now. So if this is a less than accurate representation (i.e. my leaving out having fun seeing old friends) then just deal with it. I'm trying to be funny, so bear with me. Hence the reference to my being cool at Rice. I continue.

Anyway, I thought I would share my experiences and reflections from last night simply because it is but a precursor to an event that I formerly thought would be fun. The five year high school reunion. As much as I give Lindsey shit about being an anti-social crab and just contrary in general (she just drank champagne on her own while the rest of us were counting down to the new year), I'm starting to understand her refusal to attend this thing. I'm having my own doubts. Here's a list of why:

• Five years? So on average we've only spent one year outside of college, and some people will have just graduated. Not only that, since I went to a dork school a rather sizeable percentage of us are still in grad school so our life is for all practical purposes still on hiatus.
• Apparently everyone from TJ either went to UVA, or is now living in DC or Boston. No joke. So while everyone has been catching up/meeting/re-meeting each other, I'll just be the weird guy from the math team who's been "out there."
• Back to grad school. As I went to a school for science and technology, most people in grad school are in some basic sciences field. When I say public health I get the inevitable "Oh, that's nice." And then they ask me to explain, not out of interest but out of a way to fill awkward silence since they don't remember me or never knew who I was to begin with. And when I tell them that I'm neither fighting Ebola in Africa nor going to create the perfect American health care system but studying behavior, even the faux interest fades away.
• Hi. I'm seeing/engaged/married to this person. Chances are this person is also from TJ (like 75%). I'm happy and successful. But I'm sure being single is great for you. Have fun with that. Nothing like pity to make the food you're eating for the only purpose of avoiding conversation to taste that much better.

And here's my favorite. Apparently I'm supposed to organize this. The only thing I did at TJ was cross-country and track. I agreed to be the "regional representative" when I was at Rice (I blame the lure of sangria). Never mind contacting a class president or anything, let's find the guy who we don't remember but clearly has nothing else better to do than organize an event at which he'll be miserable. Excellent. Though if I do end up doing this I will have a few safeguards in place. List number 2:

• Large space. No need to be stuck around people who you have to pretend you care about. All that pretension is exhausting.
• Many drinks. MANY drinks. I posit that alcohol, not love, is the answer.
• This one I got from Scott. I collect basic information from everyone before they come, and have it printed on t-shirts. We all wear the t-shirts, so no conversation with people blocking your access to booze is necessary.
• A Taboo buzzer. I will be in sole possession of a Taboo buzzer so when people start talking about their happy coupled lives or spouting off pity for those of us who are single, I can press it. It will be wired to some contraption, but I haven't figured out what yet. But I've got a year so I'm taking suggestions.

That's it for now. I know you were all probably expecting some crazy story about my crazy family but I've managed to either avoid or quell any arguments.

Oh. And happy new year. 2006! Rock on! I can only hope it won't be as mundane as the number 2006 itself.