Back in Bridgeport

Kolbe Cathedral's class of 1998, including yours truly, 12 years later.

Saturday night, Kolbe Cathedral’s classes of 1997 through 2002 got together at Angelo’s Pizza on Madison Ave. for a reunion. Since I’m a graduate of the class of ’98, I was there too. But I almost didn’t make it.

I spent the three weeks leading up to the event trying to convince myself to go. Although I knew I’d have a great time seeing people I haven’t seen in a very long time, I was concerned about having to tell everyone that I’m now living at home and out of work.

Initially, I thought I’d only attend if I could find a job before Saturday. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

As I looked at the Facebook page for the event and saw the list of people attending growing by the day, I realized that this was going to be too good to pass up. Plus, a night of fun and awkward conversations with people I haven’t seen in twelve years sounded a lot more entertaining than my other option for Saturday night — Watching reruns of “Cops.” On the last day to buy a ticket, I jumped in. I successfully convinced myself to go.

I’m glad I didn’t let my fear of answering the “What have you been up to?” question get the best of me. Facebook is quite helpful with answering that question for you, if your friends pay attention to your status updates, that is. Not everyone does though, as some people thought I flew in all the way from Los Angeles to attend the reunion. I love you guys, but I don’t love you THAT much.

Many of the faces I ran into, however, already knew what I was up to. Surprisingly, several people told me that they read every story I post and even asked me about specific things I wrote, especially my encounter with Mike Tyson.

At least, I think that’s what I heard.

Prior to leaving for the party I injured my ear while cleaning it, causing me to have trouble hearing out of my right ear. Throw in some music courtesy of the Class of 98′s own D.J. Dice and you’ve got me answering my former classmates with “What?” or “Huh?” for the duration of the reunion. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone that I couldn’t hear because I jammed a q-tip down my ear.

I’m guessing my fellow classmates left the party thinking, “Tim, didn’t age well. He was yelling all night and he couldn’t hear a word we said.”

While I hope that’s not the case, I wouldn’t be surprised if that is the impression I left on everyone. I may have lost my hair and gained a bunch of weight, but my ears still work … most of the time.

Despite my difficulties with hearing and my fear of telling people that my life isn’t exactly going according to plan, this was the best night I’ve had since moving back to Bridgeport and I almost didn’t go.

Thank you Betsy, Jamie, Stephanie and Monica for organizing such a great event.