The booklets from the 30th reunion were sent out to those who completed the questionaire and to people who attended the reunion. If you did not recieve one, it may be because we do not have a valid email for you. Please send any requests for the booklet and/or updates to email addresses to marlborohighclassof1981@gmail.com
Hope enveryone has a great Thanksgiving!
Julie
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Impressions of MHS Class
The lovely, talented Trish Finlay wrote a fantastic write-up of our reunion from her perspective. This was emailed out to those classmates that we have valid emails for. If you did not get a copy, you should email your current email address to marlborohighclassof1981@gmail.com so that you can be sure to get Class of '81 information going forward. A copy of Trish's write-up is here for everyone to enjoy:
There’s something that comes with age that allows us to let our guard down while keeping our control top pantyhose up. As I was getting ready for our thirtieth class reunion, I checked the bathroom mirror for any unwanted facial hair and made sure the multi-functional age defying –luminessing lotions and potions had enough time to seep into my 49 year old face. Once I had my make-up on and my dress that I bought special for the occasion along with lower heels than I once wore, I was ready.
Before the Class Reunion my childhood best friend, Sharon, was meeting me at my new house and by new I mean 1952 new that I purchased and by purchased I mean mortgaged out but nonetheless it was sort of mine or at least will be mine in a mere 30 years. We had many years to catch up on in an hour’s time.
She looked beautiful. No different than she looked when she and I slept in her trailer that was permanently parked in her yard during our school days talking about which boy we wanted to kiss. She arrived in jeans and a lovely top and sparkly jewelry. I was overdressed. I wanted to rip off my dress and pearls. Woody Allen took over my head. Every neurotic thought I could think of zipped through my brain in record time- thoughts such as "I look like I’m trying too hard-what if I slip on these heels-should I take the fake pearl choker off-who do I think I am trying to pull off effortless when I haven’t eaten anything all day except Cheerios in order to look thinner-how the hell do I wear this wrap?" The Woody Allen exorcism ended and I realized I WANTED to dress up. I felt good- Darn it! My friend assured me that it’s okay because everyone dresses the way they feel comfortable. I was fully comfortable being held in by my pantyhose and I guess I was going to stay that way.
We did the woman scream that we do so well, "OHMYGOSHYOULOOKSOGREAT"(which incidentally was the statement of the night) and we hugged and I showed her around. (It didn’t take long). We sat in my living room and talked over life- the good the bad and the ugly. The serious stuff. We have a long and deeply rooted history together due to the loss of her mom our Senior year. We learned of life fast.
It was time to go. We took separate cars and the anticipation was exciting and a bit nerve wracking. We drove up the long driveway to the Country Club in the town where we attended school. The room we would be in was in plain view and my stomach was in knots but I had any and every stomach issue covered in my purse from Beano to Pepto. Bring it on.
I knew in my rational mind there wouldn’t be any list on the bathroom wall I had to worry about where my name had stars next to it. It wasn’t like I didn’t have friends, I had lots of friends, but the upper classman girls must have liked writing my name because back then they wrote it a lot but this was MY class not theirs so maybe I wouldn’t need the Pepto after all. Some of you considered yourselves wallflowers but those of us not considered wallflowers had our own cross to bear too.
Once we walked through the door-all my fear subsided. There they were, kids in grown up faces. I didn’t know who to talk to first. Each face I saw was another page right out my life. Megan whom I played with throughout elementary school. Clearly I could see us like it were yesterday ringing in the new year with Bubble-Up soda in her bedroom. Familiar faces all grown up-all beautiful. Sharon, Brian, Greg, Candy, Cindy, Mary, Julie, Maribeth, Albie, Susan and Billy and all the old Jaworek school crowd. These were our people-the ones who grew up together. All of our lives completely different from one another but with that common bond still strong as ever.
Not everyone remembers everyone but somehow once you see the name tag and look at the eyes, you remember.
Dean chipped his front tooth on the day of the reunion. Had this happened to a woman or at least this woman, I’d have stayed in watching a Lifetime movie in my bathrobe. Not Dean he flashed his jack-o-lantern smile all night adding to the the fun of the night and he looked great nonetheless plus being October it was rather fitting.
Some faces hardened a little from the wear and tear of life while others softened with age. Each and every one of us wanted to be there. After finding a table that would accept the two of us, we sat briefly and took it in. Our Classmates. We weren’t sitting long too many people to talk with. It was like the excitement never wore off.
The room was alive. Alive with memories. There were old flames and old crushes that still hold a place in the heart. Crushes professed for the first time because there is safety in years. There were new romances and still more in the works."Wow, Chris and Debbie got married!" So whatever happened to …"
What struck me most was that by the end of the night, I didn’t know who was a lawyer or a doctor or a janitor or grocery clerk because it didn’t matter. I didn’t know who had what address. No airs, no put ons. Yes, you could see I wasn’t the only one who tried a little harder to look a little better that night because we want to be recognized as our old selves or even better than our old selves. Skin glowed and the dance floor rocked.
I looked at the gang from my "old hood" as one classmate put it and I could almost hear my mother calling me in for dinner. Saying our nightly good byes under streetlights and planning our next neighborhood excursion. There were no cell phones and text messages. There were knocks on front doors or maybe a tap on a window.
No matter what high school meant to you, no matter whether you thought you fit in or not, it was our time. I didn’t think I was apart of it enough because I had an "older" boyfriend throughout my HS years. The boy-men of today let me know what that felt like to them. "You dated an older guy." I was the one missing out. Don't think I didn't notice though. I was stuck in a love that I thought would last forever.
Despite some of the hardships we as a whole or individually experienced over the course of thirty years-loss of family members, separations, divorces, illnesses, on this night we set aside the sadness and danced the electric slide and talked of lighter times.
Once the reunion was over at the Country Club we all went to Sully’s where the night continued. Scott played his music, hugging was the norm and cards and numbers were being exchanged. See you on Facebook was the modern day tap on the window. I may be the only one not on Facebook so I may not stay in the loop as well, but if anyone wants to hang out, meet me under the streetlight on Summit Ave and we’ll go from there.
The class clown still played his role. The most talkative played hers. The difference was we were all equal now. There were no jocks, no stoners, no "in crowd", no nerds- Just Us-the Class of ‘81 and didn’t we clean up well!
Trish Finlay
There’s something that comes with age that allows us to let our guard down while keeping our control top pantyhose up. As I was getting ready for our thirtieth class reunion, I checked the bathroom mirror for any unwanted facial hair and made sure the multi-functional age defying –luminessing lotions and potions had enough time to seep into my 49 year old face. Once I had my make-up on and my dress that I bought special for the occasion along with lower heels than I once wore, I was ready.
Before the Class Reunion my childhood best friend, Sharon, was meeting me at my new house and by new I mean 1952 new that I purchased and by purchased I mean mortgaged out but nonetheless it was sort of mine or at least will be mine in a mere 30 years. We had many years to catch up on in an hour’s time.
She looked beautiful. No different than she looked when she and I slept in her trailer that was permanently parked in her yard during our school days talking about which boy we wanted to kiss. She arrived in jeans and a lovely top and sparkly jewelry. I was overdressed. I wanted to rip off my dress and pearls. Woody Allen took over my head. Every neurotic thought I could think of zipped through my brain in record time- thoughts such as "I look like I’m trying too hard-what if I slip on these heels-should I take the fake pearl choker off-who do I think I am trying to pull off effortless when I haven’t eaten anything all day except Cheerios in order to look thinner-how the hell do I wear this wrap?" The Woody Allen exorcism ended and I realized I WANTED to dress up. I felt good- Darn it! My friend assured me that it’s okay because everyone dresses the way they feel comfortable. I was fully comfortable being held in by my pantyhose and I guess I was going to stay that way.
We did the woman scream that we do so well, "OHMYGOSHYOULOOKSOGREAT"(which incidentally was the statement of the night) and we hugged and I showed her around. (It didn’t take long). We sat in my living room and talked over life- the good the bad and the ugly. The serious stuff. We have a long and deeply rooted history together due to the loss of her mom our Senior year. We learned of life fast.
It was time to go. We took separate cars and the anticipation was exciting and a bit nerve wracking. We drove up the long driveway to the Country Club in the town where we attended school. The room we would be in was in plain view and my stomach was in knots but I had any and every stomach issue covered in my purse from Beano to Pepto. Bring it on.
I knew in my rational mind there wouldn’t be any list on the bathroom wall I had to worry about where my name had stars next to it. It wasn’t like I didn’t have friends, I had lots of friends, but the upper classman girls must have liked writing my name because back then they wrote it a lot but this was MY class not theirs so maybe I wouldn’t need the Pepto after all. Some of you considered yourselves wallflowers but those of us not considered wallflowers had our own cross to bear too.
Once we walked through the door-all my fear subsided. There they were, kids in grown up faces. I didn’t know who to talk to first. Each face I saw was another page right out my life. Megan whom I played with throughout elementary school. Clearly I could see us like it were yesterday ringing in the new year with Bubble-Up soda in her bedroom. Familiar faces all grown up-all beautiful. Sharon, Brian, Greg, Candy, Cindy, Mary, Julie, Maribeth, Albie, Susan and Billy and all the old Jaworek school crowd. These were our people-the ones who grew up together. All of our lives completely different from one another but with that common bond still strong as ever.
Not everyone remembers everyone but somehow once you see the name tag and look at the eyes, you remember.
Dean chipped his front tooth on the day of the reunion. Had this happened to a woman or at least this woman, I’d have stayed in watching a Lifetime movie in my bathrobe. Not Dean he flashed his jack-o-lantern smile all night adding to the the fun of the night and he looked great nonetheless plus being October it was rather fitting.
Some faces hardened a little from the wear and tear of life while others softened with age. Each and every one of us wanted to be there. After finding a table that would accept the two of us, we sat briefly and took it in. Our Classmates. We weren’t sitting long too many people to talk with. It was like the excitement never wore off.
The room was alive. Alive with memories. There were old flames and old crushes that still hold a place in the heart. Crushes professed for the first time because there is safety in years. There were new romances and still more in the works."Wow, Chris and Debbie got married!" So whatever happened to …"
What struck me most was that by the end of the night, I didn’t know who was a lawyer or a doctor or a janitor or grocery clerk because it didn’t matter. I didn’t know who had what address. No airs, no put ons. Yes, you could see I wasn’t the only one who tried a little harder to look a little better that night because we want to be recognized as our old selves or even better than our old selves. Skin glowed and the dance floor rocked.
I looked at the gang from my "old hood" as one classmate put it and I could almost hear my mother calling me in for dinner. Saying our nightly good byes under streetlights and planning our next neighborhood excursion. There were no cell phones and text messages. There were knocks on front doors or maybe a tap on a window.
No matter what high school meant to you, no matter whether you thought you fit in or not, it was our time. I didn’t think I was apart of it enough because I had an "older" boyfriend throughout my HS years. The boy-men of today let me know what that felt like to them. "You dated an older guy." I was the one missing out. Don't think I didn't notice though. I was stuck in a love that I thought would last forever.
Despite some of the hardships we as a whole or individually experienced over the course of thirty years-loss of family members, separations, divorces, illnesses, on this night we set aside the sadness and danced the electric slide and talked of lighter times.
Once the reunion was over at the Country Club we all went to Sully’s where the night continued. Scott played his music, hugging was the norm and cards and numbers were being exchanged. See you on Facebook was the modern day tap on the window. I may be the only one not on Facebook so I may not stay in the loop as well, but if anyone wants to hang out, meet me under the streetlight on Summit Ave and we’ll go from there.
The class clown still played his role. The most talkative played hers. The difference was we were all equal now. There were no jocks, no stoners, no "in crowd", no nerds- Just Us-the Class of ‘81 and didn’t we clean up well!
Trish Finlay
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Class picture from our 30th reunion
Well, it seems like our 30th reunion was a great success! (Yikes, that number just keeps getting bigger!) Everyone seemed to have a great time - the night flew by. It really was great to see everyone - and we missed all who were not able to make it. We even got a write-up in The Main Street Journal.
Here is a copy of the class picture from that night...
Here is a copy of the class picture from that night...
Welcome to our class blog!
Hi Everyone!
We are trying to find a way to reach everyone, keep everyone up-to-date and give people a way to have some input into our class get togethers. I am new to this whole blogging thing, so please be patient as I figure this all out. But, let's see if this will work as a means of keeping communication open with the class -- especially all non-facebookers. Now - I have to go do some more research here into what the heck I am doing...
See you soon!
Julie
We are trying to find a way to reach everyone, keep everyone up-to-date and give people a way to have some input into our class get togethers. I am new to this whole blogging thing, so please be patient as I figure this all out. But, let's see if this will work as a means of keeping communication open with the class -- especially all non-facebookers. Now - I have to go do some more research here into what the heck I am doing...
See you soon!
Julie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)