And I do. She was one of the pretty girls. There were two. The other was her cousin. I knew them from church.
There were other pretty girls, I'm certain, at school and there were probably more at church, too, but these are the two that matter. In my memory, they are the impossibles. They sometimes pulled me in, sometimes pushed me away, so I was like the lab rat who gets the pellet only every once in awhile, a shock the rest of the time, but keeps pressing the lever in hopes of a pellet. They were the Daisies to my Gatsby. They were the careless rich. My mind snapped to them when I heard the song, when I was eighteen:
Where the pretty girls are; those demigods.
I'm sure Tori speaks for legions of depressed eighteen-year olds still.
This one was the nicer of the two - or, at least, the more polite - and I have no idea what to think of her call. I haven't seen or talked with her for thirteen years, and we had no relationship before that. I don't know who she is, and she lives far enough away that I shouldn't have to force a friendship now. But I'm devilishly curious. Is she still militantly a part of the machine that was my childhood church? Is she as beautiful as I remember, or have I been so inundated by the OC version of gorgeous that she will seem boring by comparison? Is there any depth to her character? Was my teenage hostility toward her unfounded?
Sometimes, it's fun to just sit back and watch the universe throw things my way. Hmmm, I think. What am I going to learn from this curveball?
posted by Samus @ 8:01 PM
7 Comments:
Ooh! That is wild. In light of my recent 14 year reunion, I'm curious on your behalf. But I understand the fear of getting into something you might have trouble getting out of...
Don't you have just a moment, though of, "If they could see me now"?
Yeah, reading about yours made me write about mine. I was going to tell you but I forgot.
I don't have the "If they could see me now" thing. There's always someone richer, smarter and better looking. I know for sure she's at least two of those. Plus, you just don't go looking up childhood acquaintances unless you, yourself, have a little ego going on. But I'm living well, and I'm happy, and if she wants to be friendly, and she doesn't mind me giving advice on anal sex to eighteen-year old boys, we can hang.
Good point. They'd be just about normal here. A little further South or West of here, and they'd be low class.
Yeah, it's true there's always someone more something...but what a strange event for her to look you up. At the most, people I knew a couple years ago are the only ones liable to look me up :)
Anal sex, huh? Maybe I need tips too...I'm still on the "no way in hell" side of the fence.
I'm on the "if it comes to that" side of the fence, but the boys don't know that.
90% confidence, 10% research.
Research I get. What do you mean, exactly, by "confidence"? Confidence in the man, the act or your own body?
So, what happened?
I attended a 10-year class reunion not so long ago wondering, was it me or was it them that made high school suck? Then, at the end of the night, I was literally dis-invited to an after-party by a classmate because I had gone on a date with her husband in high school. I guess he told her once that I was the first girl he was attracted to because of my brains rather than physcial appearance - and this threatened her over 10 years later.
Eventually, she tracked me down and apologized, offering to take me out for drinks if I ever came through town again.
Anyway, it was nice to realize that IT WAS THEM all along.
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