I spent the weekend (last weekend, this entry has been in draft form for a week) in New Plymouth at my 25 Year (holy CRAP) Class Reunion. I arrived at Sacred Heart Girls' College as a boarder (yes, pillowfights and sharing beds) in the second term of the Fourth Form. I was 14 years old. (not last weekend.. but many moons ago.. when i was at school, dontchaknow)

It was the first time in my life I'd ever had a room of my own. I was replacing another Michelle whose parents had moved away/withdrawn her from the school. (not that Michelles are particularly interchangeable, but in this case, it worked) I boarded for two years, and attended as a day-girl for 2 years. And now, 25 years later, I was about to walk into the Squeeze Bar in New Plymouth, slightly convinced no one would remember me, let alone recognise me.

But they did. And I recognised them... well.. *some* of them. I saw Hoffy making a determined bee-line for me while I was trying to order my first vodka and orange for the evening, realising who she was as I was engulfed in a Great Big Hug ®. After she released me she said "I had said, that fucking Midge had better be here!" and here I was, and here a bunch of us were and it was the beginning of a fabulously fun evening.

It's a strange thing to know a face from years ago. People don't really change - not really. We were all shorter, and thinner, and dorkier 25 years ago but we were all familiar now (some of us still have bad hair). Catching up and finding out who does what, who had kids, who divorced, retelling stories and finding out what *really* happened and who got blamed for others follies. It was wonderful. Just wonderful.