Last weekend, we had a multi-hour plane trip across the country to San Francisco. (We flew Midwest, the airline with which I am now in love. Oh, the warm cookies! And the DigePlayers!)
This weekend, we are taking a short drive to H's hometown for his 10-year high school reunion. (I do not share the same love for either of our cars. And there will be no food or entertainment during the drive.) His graduating class was 23 people. He is still close with a few of the guys from his class and is looking forward to seeing them. These guys take an annual weekend trip to a cabin on a lake in different parts of Minnesota each year. It is interesting when the guys get together because they really don't have that much in common anymore, but they have this tight-knit bond because they went through so much together growing up. We moved around so much when I was growing up that the only person I really have that with is my sister. (And my San Francisco friend, to a lesser extent.)
Last time that I went out with H in his hometown, we went to some biker bar to meet up with his friends. A girl from his high school class was there; she was the first female from his class I had met (and the only one to this day). Since the guys spend most of their time together laughing hysterically about practical jokes they played on each other in the 9th grade, I tried to bond with the girl.
I said, "Hi, my name is R."
She asked, "Which NASCAR driver do you think is cuter: Some Guy or Some Other Guy?"
I answered, "Well, I don't really know anything about NASCAR."
And then she looked down her nose at me and walked away.
In other words, I will be taking lots of pictures this weekend!