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For three years, I hated highschool. I spent every summer in school so I could graduate early and get out of my hell hole. I had friends, I had my high school sweetheart, I had activities and I didn't do too terribly academically. But I always hated the cliques. The special people, the ones that turn around and run the reunions.

Because I graduated a year early, and so did my husband - we were friends with the class of '76 but belonged to the class of '75. This past weekend we were invited to the class reunion for '76. I should have known better. We arrived in front of the yacht scheduled to take us on our reunion and there was a 'check-in' table where we were to receive our badges with our old school pictures on them. My husband's was doled out with his junior year picture. Here's yours the perky ex-cheerleader said to me, handing me a guest badge. My husband and I looked at eachother - didn't you tell them I graduated from here too? Back to the cheerleader. Oh, we couldn't find you so we gave you this one. Would you like a blank one instead? My junior year picture was two pages over in the scanned year book from my husband's. They didn't look.

Onto the yacht. One hundred fifty people. Thank goodness there were a handful of people I recognized. Up to the bar to get a soda. We're only 1/2 hour into the cruise and there's already a drunk to my left. He asks how I'm doing since we're both guests. No, I explain, I graduated from the same school. He stares at my badge - but it says he begins, but I interrupt him. They made a mistake. Bummer he says.

Back to the table. Dinner is served. Great, we've paid $160 bucks, should be pretty good food. Salad, green beans and three types of pasta. I think there's meat in one of the sauces, but its so small I'm not sure. We only have one hour before the food is taken away the announcer says. So we scarfe down the pastas. The food is left out for two hours.

We wander the boat. While I'm in the bathroom, three lonley women tackle my husband and identify if he's worth dragging back to shore. You're so good looking they tell him hoping he sees the assets they clearly have on display. They are dissappointed when I return. We stand together looking at the harbor lights. A handful of guys are talking about the food or the lack of it. They approach us. We agree, we don't remember one another at all. But you didn't go to school with us, one says pointing at my badge. Never mind.

I walk back to our table and the emcee is getting ready to talk. He's a former classmate. He tells me I'm doing great - since I'm clearly a guest. I tell him my name and remind him what classes we were in together. He doesn't remember me.

The emcee is elected to read from a list of the survey results. Since we've been married 31 years, we're clearly going to be the winner for the longest married couple. He announces three couples, all married 30 years. Huh? Forgotten again. Most children? We have five, someone else has six. Oldest kid? He's 29, someone else has a kid over 30. Most grandchildren? We only have one, so the one with 5 clearly beats us. No prizes are awarded - so no big loss.

Back wandering the boat again we run into the emcee. He remembers my husband, but still not me. I sat next to him in three classes. He was usually wasted he tells me. Ah, that explains it.

I pass by one of the organizers. I mention we were married 31 years - it wasn't on your survey she says. I wonder how she missed 1975 as the year we were married. It must have been next to the part about where I graduated from the same school and what year.

Its time to leave the captain tells us as we dock back at the harbor. We linger on a bit talking to a friend of my husband's. The captain exits the staircase and tells us we have to leave - now! So off we go into the night. They remind us that we can take a directory of all those classmates addresses and phone numbers as we leave. I take a copy and my husband tries to take a copy. They remind him that he's the classmember and I'm only a guest - so we can only have one directory.

I'm hungry, I'm pissed, I'm forgotten, hell I don't even think I was forgotten - I don't think they realized I was at the school in the first place. We head home. My hubby of 31 years and I. He's the only classmate I need.

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