Epiphany and Michelle's High School Reunion

'Tis time.
My 15 Year High School reunion is coming up. Fifteen Years. And what have I done with my life, besides delay maturity? Let me get back to you on that.

All of the people who are sending me reminders have quite thoughtfully included their married name in all correspondence, lest I get confused. For some, I even have photos of their happy family, kids and all. Sweet.
I am so very torn over this. Do I go, if only to represent the Bridget Joneses of my class? Do I laugh smugly at those who've put on weight, if only to cover my jealousy at their familial bliss (most likely the cause of their extra pounds)? Do I invite a handsome male friend to accompany me and pretend to dote upon me so I can show everyone back home that I am, in fact, not covered in scales?
Or do I stay away, and let them speculate what wild and glamorous things I do with my loads of single-girl free time?

Nah. I'm a really bad liar, and really, what would be the point?
The grass is always gonna be greener, right?
The truth is, I'm happy. Sure, there are things I'd thought I would have done by now that I haven't, but there are also things I'd never even thought of that I have managed to accomplish. And I'd bet everybody there has some things that they're proud of, as well as some things they wish were different.
No, I should go, dressed as myself (on a good day), and enjoy reminiscing and reconnecting with old(e) friends.


That is, of course, unless I have better plans.