So, as I've talked about my reunion with people around here, I've realized that I have to revise my previous description as simplistic. I must now admit that there were two successes and one realization.
The realization is that the people that I really spent time with during high school, the people that saw me at my best and at my worst, the people that shared classes with me and, more importantly, shared extra-curriculars, were not there. So maybe, it was not just the volume of the bar but also the lack of depth of relationships. Jane, Doug, Dan, Mike, Katie - not there. Their absence affected the chemistry of the group. It did not feel like the high school dynamic that I remember because key chemicals and catalysts were missing.
On to the successes. The first is that I told a guy he was hot. How is this a success, you say. Let me explain. This guy has been the cutest thing on the planet since probably the first grade. When I got to junior high and on the first day of school Sarah B. pointed to Bob M. and told me that he was the cutest boy in school (and most will agree with me that Bob is pretty dang cute), I shook my head vehemently and said, "Oh yeah? You haven't met _____ yet." I was that sure. I never really spent much time with this guy in the 12 years that I was in the same school system as he was. He wasn't in many honors classes and was way too cool for extra-curriculars. My lust for him was purely physical. In fact, all of the elements of a high school crush were completely missing from my interactions with him. I did not doodle our names together on my notebook, I did not speculate about him in my journal, my friends did not tease me. However, every single time I caught even a glimpse of him, my body and brain went into a state of paralysis and the words, "He is so hot," would play in my head and my effort to keep my tongue still was the only sign of life that I could demonstrate. So, after avoiding eye contact with him for the first 45 minutes of the evening, I finally said hello and then jsut said, "You are still hot." What a weight off my shoulders! He laughed this weird, girlish giggle, and since I describe it that way, I guess the disillusionment process has begun. Imagine the possibilities if I could have said this 15 years ago. But, that's the point, isn't it? I was so uncomfortable with myself and innocent of the opposite sex to the point that it just wasn't going to happen. The success of this encounter is that saying the words out loud, finally, indicates that I am comfortable enough with myself and my relationships with the opposite sex to be honest without fear of what might be thought of me. Plus, it was just plain fun: a good thrill.
The second success was in not asking another guy that I'd known since elementary school if he still had that third nipple that he seemed to flaunt when we were young. The downside to the growth of my confidence in myself is that I occassionally err on the side of impishness. Much like my literary hero Alanna who dressed like a boy to become a knight, I've learned that I can make people laugh simply by saying what pops into my head. So, upon seeing this second unnamed fellow, the first thing that popped into my head was an image of him wearing these velour, V-necked shirts. He had three or four of these shirts and it seemed like that was all he wore. I remember thinking that they must have been hand-me-downs from his older brother because just above the V was this third nipple looking thingy. If they weren't hand-me-downs, why would he choose that neckline? But, in this case, I held my tongue. Similar to the first guy, I never really interacted with this kid, except for my morbid fascination with his growth. So, it was absolutely not appropriate for me to ask, because there is absolutely no way that he would know that I was asking in good spirits. I practiced the skill that Hot Guy had helped me learn in childhood of keeping my tongue still.
So, two successes and a revision. One sucess involves speaking when I wouldn't have and the second involved not speaking when I would have. Not bad.
All my Favourite People are Broken - "I hate you. And I'm embarrassed you're my mom." "I feel you, bud." "We still have to wash your hair." **** His insults are genuine and heartfelt. And I tw...