~ October 14, 2003 - 9:54 p.m. ~
Glory Days
I feel like I haven't really been here for a while, but I've had a very busy week filled with house-guestly goodness. It was great to see everyone, but I am really exhausted after wandering all over the city from Washington Heights to Noho. I managed to wrangle a footrub out of a temporary houseguest last night, so I no longer want to die rather than stand up, but my feet are actually tingly from all the walking I've been doing.Jenny has evoked a particularly sweet moment from high school, and there haven't been many of those on my mind lately (Sorry, Elwen, not to sound discouraging, but I'm not at a place in my life where I can think particularly fond thoughts of high school). Odella and I spent a long weekend bitching of days gone by and people we hope never to see ever again (can anybody say "theatre department?") and lately I have been feeling like I really got the short end of the high school stick. Maybe it's because I feel so removed from most of my closest friends. If we talk, it's usually a brief hello-goodbye sort of thing. I mean, everyone is really busy, myself included, so it's not like I expect long, heart-felt conversations about Life, the Universe, and Everything* that last long into the night. But the very fact that we don't talk the way we used to makes me forget most of the time that things were good when I was 16. It wasn't all bad poetry, break-ups, break-outs, tough classes, and departmental politics. I know it wasn't. But it's so hard to remember that sometimes.
Most people I know, or at least most people I see on TV, look back on high school with fondness. Not even as the proverbial "best years of their life," but at least with enough sentiment to overlook the bad stuff long enough to savor the good. Lately I can't even do that. But I feel like I should, just so that I don't end up too bitter to go to my five-year reunion, or whatever.
For the next week or so, this journal will be dedicated to tales SOA. That's right people, we're gonna reminisce about high school. And as I have already admitted that my memory is fuzzy on the good, if you were there and you remember things differently from any story I recount, let me know.
I'm just sitting back, trying to recapture a little of the glory of . . .well, time slips away and leaves you with nothing, mister, except for boring stories of glory days.
*I did mean the subjects, not the Douglas Adams' book.
