Why do we fear high school reunions? Correction: Why do we fear them – but won’t admit it?

Instead of facing reality, people will whip-up some deep philosophy (a.ka. a bull-!&#$ excuse) explaining why they have no use for their reunion and why their reunion has no use for them. Sound familiar: “I didn’t care about what any of them were doing in high school. Why should I care now?” Or the lamer, “I didn’t go because I wasn’t friends with any of the people that went anyway.” There’s even the rare, but effective, “My senior year I was voted prom queen as a joke and my classmates dumped pigs’ blood all over me during the crowning. I was so humiliated that I telepathically burnt down the gymnasium. So I’m actually not allowed to go.”

My advice; don’t waste B.S. on excuses – save it for the “ice breaker.”

Reunions are our chance to be everything we weren’t in high school – and everything we probably aren’t in life. And since there are so many different ways to mess with people – not blowing all their minds at this awkward get-together should be your only fear!

You can’t go wrong as long as you avoid being plain. Being normal – and boring – is why you don’t ever want to go in the first place, right?

Things to consider when molding your new reunion identity: nobody likes a winner, at least not at this event. Think of it this way; anyone can be an over-achieving success – it takes creativity to become a grossly under-achieving weirdo.

Prison stories by the punch bowl are always a hit. Watch phony smiles melt away as you assure uncomfortable classmates that, “It’s OK, that’s all behind me now.” A couple days later – when they’re relieved to find out via a mass e-mail chain that you weren’t really under 24-hour lock-down in San Quentin – your real life as a lonely raft salesman will sound pretty darn swanky.