Y’all, reunions. Aren’t they funny? That’s actually more of a statement than a question because they definitely are.

So, I graduated from Penn Manor High School in Millersville, PA. But, as anyone who’s known me more than a minute knows, that’s just one chapter of my high school saga. You see, I was a child of divorce (and a little bit of chaos), which meant I was bouncing like a pinball between states, towns, and schools.

Here’s the breakdown for anyone trying to keep up including me!

Kindergarten: Green Acres Elementary

1st Grade: Adairsville Elementary

2nd to 4th Grades: New Holland Elementary

5th Grade: Back to Adairsville Elementary

6th to 8th Grades: Adairsville Middle (well, half of it—because then my parents completely lost their minds and sent me to Ruth Home, like I was some kind of juvenile delinquint)

9th Grade: Adairsville High School for about six weeks

9th Grade part 2: Penn Manor for like a week (I cried every day)

9th Grade part 3: Garden Spot for the rest of that year

10th Grade part 1: Garden Spot (refer to 10th grade part 2)

10 Grade part 2: Adairsville High School for the last month or so because why not?

11th Grade: Adairsville High School

12th Grade: Back to Penn Manor High School, where I officially graduated!

Whew! Did I lose anyone? ‘Cause I think I got lost just writing that! (And believe me, I was just as confused living it back then.)

Ahhh, children of divorce… or military families. One thing’s for sure—you learn how to adjust. Fast. You learn how to melt into a new place and make friends anywhere. And I have. I’ve got lifelong friends from Adairsville, New Holland, and Millersville.

And can we talk about the cultural whiplash of moving from the South to the North? One country, y’all, but it might as well be two different worlds. In Georgia, it’s “y’all,” sweet tea, and “bless your heart” with a side of shade. In Pennsylvania, it’s “you guys,” Wawa, and learning to love scrapple (I didn’t) and 100% up front honesty. “Bless Your Heart” becomes straight up, “you’re an idiot.” Boo!

But one thing that ties it all together—besides my ridiculous number of yearbook photos from multiple schools—is the friendships formed during those years. The inside jokes. The field trips. The sports teams (even though I was more “sidelines with snacks” than “varsity letter”). The dances. The crushes. The heartbreaks. The people you thought you’d never see again, and thanks to Facebook, are now sending you invites to their kid’s graduation party …or their own third or fourth wedding! Oops. Ooops. Oooops.

And that brings me back to reunions. Oh, reunions. They’re a mix of “Oh wow, look at you!” and “Ugh, I knew I should’ve started that diet three months ago,” plus a healthy dash of “Wait, who’s that? Oh my gosh, it’s her!” You get to see the ones who haven’t changed a bit—and the ones you almost don’t recognize. And let’s be real, there’s always someone whose glow-up is suspiciously fabulous, and you’re side-eyeing them like, “Is that collagen, good genes, or just your skincare game?”

Some folks come to reunions to reminisce. Some come to show off. Some come for the open bar. And some—like me—come because we genuinely love reconnecting with those people who were part of our crazy, wonderful, awkward teenage years.

Speaking of reconnecting, I am SO excited about the AHS 80’s Cruise next year! Several of the classes from the 1980s are getting together for this epic trip, and y’all, it’s going to be one for the books. Huge shout-out to Shannon and Brandy for pulling it all together. I can’t wait to cruise into the sunset with my Aville crew, reliving the 80s with big hair, Aqua Net, and all the throwback jams we can handle.

So, here’s to reunions—those hilarious, awkward, and heartwarming reminders of where we came from and how far we’ve come. Whether you’re rocking the same hairstyle from high school or showing off all your cosmetic enhancements that would make your teenage self proud, remember—it’s all about the memories, the friendships, and, of course, the photos you’ll cringe over later!

Let’s Cruise! XOXO, Jani

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