I wasn't very close to many people in my specific class. Some towns do a big ol' bulk reunion including several classes because there just aren't enough people to justify a reunion every year. Our town was a bit too big for that. If that were the case, tho, I'd be more inclined to go. There were enough people in the years surrounding my class that I'd really like to see. Although, truth be told, I'm a sentimental sap and would love to catch up with anyone who would be remotely happy to see me. I tend to really like the idea of a person. And surely the idea of someone is enough to carry you through one evening in the bar of Canterbury Hotel, right?
I wish there were reunions for other things. It'd have been neat to go to a Valley Fair employee 10 year reunion. The summer of '95 was huge for me, and it'd be great to see the people with whom I briefly experienced said hugeness. Or a fall of '96 reunion. At that point I had given up on any semblance of normal teen life, including and especially high school. But the fall and winter of that year were spent in the extended company of people I'm very curious about these days.
What has happened? How has that affected you? Did you find yourself or do you feel you simple grew into yourself? Maybe you don't feel any different at all. Maybe not feeling different scares you or makes you feel self-conscious.
What traumas or insulations have you seen since last I had the chance to ask but never did? Is your world comprised of the town of your home, familiar people and bars and routines that just sorta followed a graceful progression from then to now? Or was all that to constrictive? Did you leave out of wander-lust, insecurity, spite, or simple circumstance?
(on a slightly digressive note, i have to admit this entry is starting to feel like that silly alienated little poem published without my permission by my mom and the principle in the junior high newsletter. so many questions. i was always embarrassed by the dull simplicity of the rhyme scheme. but i was never embarrassed by the intent, which was to understand why kids were so emotionally aggressive. sure, hindsight makes a once baffling concept laughably not-complex. but the purity of intent, of which i flatter myself with having been full back then, is still beautiful.
now i am full of, among other things, myself. myself, and dramatic declarations.
(my, how little some things change))
In other news, where does "the time" go? The seeming fundamental imbalance--the "feast or famine" nature of things--is really perplexing sometimes. Someone will ask what you did, and often you can't provide a glamorous or even succinct response. But man... the time felt full. Or what of the sub-article in Murphy's Law that states if you're busy, everyone you've ever known will vie for your attention if not your company in just the single moment when you actually want/have to be where you are.
The metaphysical Cogs of the Universe really need to get with Google Calendar and plan this stuff out.