NoSalesTax

Two Elon alumni (2002) have pooled their talents to bring excitement and joy to your day. One is a classy woman who combines her Italian and feminine powers to influence men of all shapes and sizes. The other is a tall blond man who relies on wit and boyish good looks to impress women, especially when they're drunk. Join them in their epic pursuit of the phenomenon known as adulthood. NoSalesTax side effects may include addiction and abrupt laughter as colleagues look on in confused jealousy.

Friday, December 16, 2005

High School Reunion, Sorta

A girl I graduated HS w/ recently emailed me photos from her September wedding. It was strange looking at pictures of the "popular crowd" more than seven years after we threw our tassled caps in the air and said goodbye to high school. There was a level of discomfort looking at the photos, as if I were intruding on others' lives, spying on them during a celebratory moment none of them will forget, one to which I was not (rightfully so) invited. Even more surreal was seeing my HS crush in her bridesmaid dress, smiling and seemingly happy w/ the life she's chosen long after I've dismissed her from daily thoughts.

As I skimmed through the photos, I couldn't help but wonder how different these people were from the ones I knew in HS. Being popular in HS, were their dreams greater than mine? Or do they seek to rediscover the happiness they enjoyed as the kings and queens of homecoming and prom? If they've changed, has it been for the better? What would they think if we ran into each other at a bar? Would they see a guy they wished they'd gotten to know better in HS? Would they be jealous of my travels across America while they settled down close to home? Or would they simply see a guy they sat next to in chemistry class, the funny kid who was always a bit weird, the one who played on the basketball team and worked on the yearbook staff, the one who pursued the "popular girls" because he felt he had a chance?

It's amazing what thoughts enter the mind after having the past return to memory, like an old man watching a boy throw rocks into the same pond he grew up near almost a century before. Only from our pasts can we see how we've grown or deteriorated. It's an experience both impressive and sobering.

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