The world has gone a little bit Kanye

I went to bed on Thursday night pretty happy - I'd just had the most amazing weekend/ 4 days of my entire year (a brilliant 25th school reunion and a fab dinner/theatre evening with an amazing writer/hero/showrunner and her lovely sons) and this had lifted a somewhat hideous year to new heights. Plus I'd just had prosecco with a good chum and through my buzzy boozy mist I assumed all would be well with the world.

Then I woke up.

I spent Friday in a daze, just stunned by what had happened. Outside school my kids' headmistress looked gutted, as did any other sane rational, educated friend I met. Could Brexit have changed my opinion on people? After all, we are all entitled to our opinion. After all, we are a democracy and voted as such.

BUT. Two days later chatting to some people who voted leave (I only know 4 in total who did) and they shuddered at the thought of Boris and Trump in cahoots. I wanted to scream at them 'YOU VOTED FOR THIS YOU MORONS' - did people not think it through? Did they not see the list of people suggesting that leave was a good plan and think 'Hmmm Putin, Trump and Boris....' maybe it isn't such a good idea after all.

Now as 2 million regret their decision, the country is in meltdown, Cameron has resigned, Labour are in turmoil, the pound slumps, house prices dip and everyone scratches their heads and no one has any clue what to do next I look around, filled with anger thinking, 'why???'

I know deep down that a person's politics is not the sum total of who they are. My own father voted to leave - and I had to hang up on his the other day because he clearly hadn't thought it all through - but thankfully is not a racist twat who fears that migrants are taking his jobs and NHS hospital bed... I know that I should just smile and be like - good for you, you voted - you won. Good job! But I can't. I'm still too gutted. Too ashamed at what my country has become - what we look like to Europe and beyond. Too sad that my kids cannot now work in 27 different countries, that europeans in UK are facing hate crimes, that the narrow minded bigots have won the day.

As I reach for the Irish passport applications, I am hopeful that no one will invoke article 50. I am hopeful this is all one giant shambles soon to be reversed. That the country will make more sense than the Kanye twitter rant it now resembles. It can't get much worse.... or can it?

Class of '91

A rash of pictures were posted on Facebook, many of the class of 1991 squeezed into their finest formal dresses and stiff tuxes. Nostalgia kicked in and before we knew it there was talk of a 25 year reunion. Initially there was much enthusiasm and promises of attending. But as the day drew nearer, some folk dropped out, others were understandably busy and most of those I still keep in touch with declined to go.

So I debated it - should I buy some flights, set plans in stone? Or would I take the line many spouted, 'I see those I want to see, have kept in touch with my close friends, so why bother going?' But the more I thought it through - the more my gut yelled out 'Just GO!' 

Yeah, I still see a fair few from my school days - in fact I made the best friends of my life there - but to swerve a reunion because 'if you haven't seen them in 25 years then why bother now' somewhat missed the point... You go because you remember the laugh you had in second year chemistry with S or the sneaky fags you smoked on route to squash/rowing with H... The bus journey home with J and secret crush you had on X...  You go to see if anyone has changed and if so how? You go because at least 7 if not more are no longer walking on this planet and so you are a lucky one... you are still here. You go because the organisers are old buddies who have put so much energy and time into gathering the masses and you want to support them. You go because there is something magical in meeting someone after 25 years and realising how much you missed them. You go because so many of these people knew you at your most YOU and still love you. You go because life is short and jaysus where did 25 years disappear?

You go because you were so damn lucky to know so many great, generous, funny, warm people who 25 years on are still exactly that. Of course in a year of 270, there are folk you barely remember, or never even knew. There are many who you wished were there who didn't show up. There is never enough time to get around everyone and hear their stories, filling in the years... 

But one thing I never expected - was to see so much joy. Everyone smiling and hugging and just so pleased to be there. There was no boasting or bragging, or evil looks of the 'you ruined my life when I was 13'; there was no animosity or hidden resentments rising to the surface after the seventh pint... There was just a room of tipsy happy folk dancing to 80s and 90s tunes and remembering just how good we all had it... It was like 25 years had never happened. 

I'm beyond glad I went. Most of all I'm pleased so many folk are well and happy - life hasn't knocked all the youth and chutzpah and enthusiasm from them. They still shone. Roll on 2021. Wouldn't miss it for the world.