May 04, 2006

I try not to think about high school all that much. I didn't really care for the experience. Sure, it wasn't as horrible as it could have been, but it didn't live up to the hype of the Brat Pack movies and Seventeen magazine. I've read Odd Girl Out, and I didn't suffer what those girls did, the rumors and the backstabbing. I didn't make it high enough on any one's radar to worry too much about the sudden subtle shifting of the social sands. Instead, I spent those years reading lots of books, waiting for graduation, and ignoring as much of everything else as possible.

Which is why I'm all conflicted now. I've discovered I'm curious about what happened to the other people in my graduating class. Who's become successful and who's longing for the "glory days" of high school? Who got out and who's still there? And how does the stand-off-ish bookworm say, "Hey, what's up?" to people she's not seen or spoken to in thirteen years? That is, if I could find any of them.

And what do I say about me? In school, I carried around this attitude of "You'll all be sorry some day you didn't know me better, didn't include me, 'cause I'm gonna be wildly successful (at something) and I'm gonna do great stuff." But, I haven't written the novel I always said I would. I have had great adventures but probably nothing hugely impressive. And now I can't decide if I still want to impress the people I tried to ignore or if I've finally come to a point of contentment with my life that it doesn't matter what they think.


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