I had yet another high school reunion dream (perhaps I'm developing a theme as strong as Strovska's group trip theme), this one ridiculously detailed. Note that this may have some basis in reality, since next month is my 15th high school reunion, although I have no plans to attend, and have never planned to attend any reunion. This resolve began the day after I graduated.
Anyway, my dream self seems to be highly entertained by the concept of attending reunions and last night was no exception.
I dreamed that I was arriving at my old school carrying my backpack. I was somewhat proud of myself for limiting my packing to just a backpack. I knew that the girl's dorm had been renovated, so I was expecting some changes. The exterior of the building was expansive and looked very nice, though I did notice that they'd chosen to retain the beige-y, buff-colored exterior, which I thought made it look like a motel.
Inside the lobby, the dorm had retained several architectural features of its former "glory," but with the additions of lots of glass walls with shiny metal accents, a la the CSI labs. I made my way inside and avoided the welcoming smiles of the girls' dean, who was standing at the front desk. She was the one I remember from my years there, and I just wanted to skitter past her with a minimum of "catching-up" chitchat.
I toured the chapel area, and thought it was a shame that they'd completely demolished the yellow stained glass windows in favor of a windowless, and beige-colored, set of blank walls, although I did appreciate the replacement of the seats, which had been horrible when I was there.
I went upstairs to find my room for the reunion weekend. Somehow I knew that I'd be staying in my old room, and that I'd have roommates AND suitemates for the duration. They were all already settled in, and the door was open a crack as I pushed it open and called out, "Hello J.B.!!" (J.B. being the initials of a girl who was my suitemate for two years in real life.) She was standing behind the door, hanging up her clothes in the closet. She gave me one of those friendly-stranger hugs.
I started working to unpack my stuff and get myself ready for something (dinner? church? assembly?). As I investigated the bathroom, I met my suitemates, my cousin A. and another former classmate, S. They had pretty much taken over the bathroom with mountains of bottles, towels, cases of makeup, and various toiletries. Still proud of my light packing job (presumably I was clutching at straws, trying to make myself "cooler" and different from my former classmates), I was trying to wash my face at the sink, which kept filling up with tiny bottles of lotions while I was washing.
There was a lot of activity swirling around me and I'm hazy on the details, but my overall impression was that I was trying really hard to be chipper and chatty, catching up on Life. Our suitemates kept popping in and out of the room, and I noticed that my cousin A., in particular, was wearing a TON of makeup. Verging on orange.
It seemed like we were all trying to get out the door at once, but with very little success, as everyone kept trying to use the sinks/counters in the bathroom, but being thwarted each time by the massive amount of potions. Everyone was trying to iron dresses and skirts, and while I'd been so happy with my limited packing job, I worried that my selections wouldn't be dressy enough, considering all the ironing, fluffing, make up, hair styling, and stocking applications that were going on around me.
In short, it was exactly like high school, and by the time I woke to NPR, I was pretty relieved that I don't have to attend any reunions if I don't want to.