Riding the Carousel of Time

Senior class photo. Urp.

This Saturday, I’m going to meet up with some of the people I graduated high school with. It’s not exactly a reunion, more of a “pre-union,” to find out if there is enough interest to plan a forty-year reunion for 2013. Ugh. That many years? Okay, moving right along.

Reunions are not that unusual for high school or college classes. But I would not usually consider myself the type of person who would attend. I remember an episode of “CSI” when members of the team were asking each other, “which kid were you in high school?” The jock, the cheerleader, the science nerd? Grissom’s answer was, “I was a ghost.” And that came closest to how I would describe myself. For the most part in high school I kept my head down and tried not to call attention to myself. Apparently it worked, because I don’t have any memories of being teased or bullied for being different, for which I feel lucky, and grateful.

Of course there was that time I brought my Great Dane to school for a biology class project, but still.

The point is that I didn’t stay in touch with even the few people who were my closest friends back then, and I don’t know if they’ll be among the people I’ll be seeing on Saturday. But a funny thing has happened. I found one classmate I sort of remembered on Classmates.com, because she had posted a yearbook picture on her profile and I recognized her face, if not her name. And she also said in her profile that she was on FaceBook. So was I. So I looked her up. That led to a whole list of new friend requests shooting back and forth, and eventually the idea of this little get together was proposed. So instead of going into a situation where I don’t know if I’ll remember anyone at all and won’t know if I’ll have anything at all to talk about with any of them, except stuff we did in high school, I now have an idea what some of their interests are and which ones have the kind of oddball sense of humor that I can relate to. In short, the “popular kids” that I would never have had the nerve to try and be buddies with as a teenager, are now adults that I could quite easily be friends with for the rest of my life.

And one of them has a basenji!

One response to “Riding the Carousel of Time

  1. Pingback: I was a teenage leper. | Crazybasenji