My family began going to North Roanoke Baptist Church in the fall of 1997. Very quickly the parents became friends with the Hamilton/Greene clan. I got to know the youngest Hamilton, Ryan, through youth group activities. If you're keeping up that's three Hamilton kids: Nicole, Jen, and Ryan. By this point in history, Nicole and Kevin were already married, hence the inclusion of the Greenes above.
I digress. I don't actually remember meeting Jen until a few years later. See, at the time we joined the church, Jen was away at Virginia Tech. So while her entire family had the pleasure of my wit and wisdom, she was wasting away in the academic world. It wasn't until the summer of 2000, after she had graduated from college, that she finally got that opportunity.
My first real memory of Jen was at her house. Her parents were having a cook-out/party celebrating Jen's graduation from college and Ryan's graduation from high school. Up to this point I wasn't sure that the elusive third Hamilton kid even existed. But there she was. Live and in person.
If it were her telling the story, she'd probably say I was awestruck at first glance. But I was less than impressed. But let me tell you why before you jump to conclusions. As everyone lined up in the Hamiltons' kitchen to get burgers and dogs, she complained of a headache. As she was getting ready to take an Advil LiquiGel, a friend of hers dared her to break it open and just swallow the liquid without the shell.
Never one to back down from a dare, Jen did it. She broke it open and swallowed the liquid pain killers. Soon after she complained about it burning her throat. I really didn't want to make a rush judgment about the intelligence of someone I had just met, but part of me just couldn't help it.
But being who I am, quiet until you really get to know me, I merely shook my head and laughed. I mean, it was kind of funny. And hey, no harm done. No one had to be taken to the emergency room for a quick tracheotomy. There was no breakthrough in laser surgery that night. Just good times and good food. I assume the food was good. It's hard to remember the food from a specific cook-out 8 years ago.
That may not have actually been the first time I met Jen. But if there was another, I couldn't tell you about it. That's my first real memory of her and I think it makes a pretty good story. Little did I know that our adventures that summer were just beginning.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
By Popular Demand
Dear readers, the coming week I am doing something that has never been done before. It is so unprecedented, that it will pretty much blow your mind. Beginning tomorrow and running through Friday, I will be devoting every single post to Jen Hamilton.
That's right folks, you heard right. Some of you may be scratching your heads and wondering who the heck this "Jen" person is? If you've kept up with my posts for awhile, then you've seen her name mentioned a time or three. After I finish this post, I will go back into previous postings and create a new label. So soon enough, you'll just have to click the label "Jen" to get caught up.
So be sure to come back tomorrow as I kick off JenWeek with a story that's nearly a decade old. I really need a better title than JenWeek. How about JenFest? No, I got it... JenStock 2008. So keep coming back this week. You'll be treated to some pictures and even some rare, behind-the-scenes video footage.
That's right folks, you heard right. Some of you may be scratching your heads and wondering who the heck this "Jen" person is? If you've kept up with my posts for awhile, then you've seen her name mentioned a time or three. After I finish this post, I will go back into previous postings and create a new label. So soon enough, you'll just have to click the label "Jen" to get caught up.
So be sure to come back tomorrow as I kick off JenWeek with a story that's nearly a decade old. I really need a better title than JenWeek. How about JenFest? No, I got it... JenStock 2008. So keep coming back this week. You'll be treated to some pictures and even some rare, behind-the-scenes video footage.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Nap
Is it just me, or was life a lot simpler when we were in Kindergarten? I know, we were, what? Five years old? How complicated could life possibly be at age five?
Years ago, I remember seeing posters in classrooms that I believe were, in turn, inspired by a book titled All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. I never read the book, but the poster I can still see in my head. Simple pieces of common sense advice that have stuck with me to this day: share; don't hit; if you make a mess, clean it up; warm cookies and cold milk are good for you; and most importantly, take a nap every afternoon.
As a culture, I think Americans have afirm grasp Kung Fu death grip on the milk and cookies thing. But as a culture, we have lost touch with our daily naptimes. I remember learning in my Spanish class that the custom in Spain is to drop what you're doing at lunchtime and go home. You have a huge meal with your entire family, and then you have a nice siesta. After that, you continue your day's work into the evening. This makes the evening meal less important in the scheme of things, but hey, they got a nap.
So would this system be such a bad one for Americans to assimilate? We close down our businesses for about two hours while we break for lunch and a nap. Afterwards, we return to work well-rested and refreshed, prepared for the second half of our day.
I suppose this wouldn't work for us. Because Americans are always in a hurry. We hit the fast food drive-thru during our half-hour lunch breaks and pray that we don't get indigestion from eating to fast and stressing out over getting back to the office on time.
On the other side of this "naps are good" idea, there are the naps that just aren't. You know the ones I'm talking about. Those are the days when you actually get a moment to lie down to catch some of those elusive Zs. Before you know it, you've lost two hours of your afternoon and you feel worse than you did before you closed your eyes.
Those are the naps that allow us to become irresponsible. The sleep we get is too much. It wreaks havoc on our internal clock and then we suffer insomnia during the following night.
So ladies and gentlemen, I implore you, if you must nap, do so responsibly. Twenty to thirty minutes is just enough time for you to have a proper REM cycle. You'll wake up feeling like you've just had a good night's sleep.
Please be aware that I have no actual medical basis for my above claims. In fact, I only have a vague recollection of that Behavioral Science degree that I got in college, so the psychology of sleep is pretty much something you should look into for yourselves. But I'm just gonna keep napping the way I feel like napping whenever I get a chance. Get some sleep kids.
Years ago, I remember seeing posters in classrooms that I believe were, in turn, inspired by a book titled All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. I never read the book, but the poster I can still see in my head. Simple pieces of common sense advice that have stuck with me to this day: share; don't hit; if you make a mess, clean it up; warm cookies and cold milk are good for you; and most importantly, take a nap every afternoon.
As a culture, I think Americans have a
So would this system be such a bad one for Americans to assimilate? We close down our businesses for about two hours while we break for lunch and a nap. Afterwards, we return to work well-rested and refreshed, prepared for the second half of our day.
I suppose this wouldn't work for us. Because Americans are always in a hurry. We hit the fast food drive-thru during our half-hour lunch breaks and pray that we don't get indigestion from eating to fast and stressing out over getting back to the office on time.
On the other side of this "naps are good" idea, there are the naps that just aren't. You know the ones I'm talking about. Those are the days when you actually get a moment to lie down to catch some of those elusive Zs. Before you know it, you've lost two hours of your afternoon and you feel worse than you did before you closed your eyes.
Those are the naps that allow us to become irresponsible. The sleep we get is too much. It wreaks havoc on our internal clock and then we suffer insomnia during the following night.
So ladies and gentlemen, I implore you, if you must nap, do so responsibly. Twenty to thirty minutes is just enough time for you to have a proper REM cycle. You'll wake up feeling like you've just had a good night's sleep.
Please be aware that I have no actual medical basis for my above claims. In fact, I only have a vague recollection of that Behavioral Science degree that I got in college, so the psychology of sleep is pretty much something you should look into for yourselves. But I'm just gonna keep napping the way I feel like napping whenever I get a chance. Get some sleep kids.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Question of the Week: Century
Do you think the world will be a better or a worse place 100 years from now?
Not that I'm trying to be a pessimist, but I'm pretty sure it'll be worse. Assuming it's still around in its current form. I'm not gonna sit here and be one of those guys who says that signs keep pointing toward it being the end of days. I mean, there have been people making that claim for the last 2000 years. But I'd say that humanity is on the decline overall. We're overpopulating the earth; Al Gore tells us our environment is giving out; those fossil fuels we depend on will eventually run out (if we can afford to keep using them); criminal activity is on the rise; morality is on the decline. I'm sure there are more problems that I'm just not thinking of at 6:30 in the morning. Mankind is capable of so many great things, but on the flip side, we're just as capable of unimaginable horrors. So I guess 100 years for now, it's a coin toss.
*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.
Not that I'm trying to be a pessimist, but I'm pretty sure it'll be worse. Assuming it's still around in its current form. I'm not gonna sit here and be one of those guys who says that signs keep pointing toward it being the end of days. I mean, there have been people making that claim for the last 2000 years. But I'd say that humanity is on the decline overall. We're overpopulating the earth; Al Gore tells us our environment is giving out; those fossil fuels we depend on will eventually run out (if we can afford to keep using them); criminal activity is on the rise; morality is on the decline. I'm sure there are more problems that I'm just not thinking of at 6:30 in the morning. Mankind is capable of so many great things, but on the flip side, we're just as capable of unimaginable horrors. So I guess 100 years for now, it's a coin toss.
*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Legends of the Bank Teller - Episode XXIV
Three short stories from the drive-thru lane...
One day a woman drove up in her minivan and just sat there. For about a minute she just sat there staring at the tube. I was working on something for a lobby customer, so finally a coworker asked her if she could help. Now, she didn't buzz in. Normally people push the buzzer about 8 times to either annoy us or get our attention. The woman in the van just asked, "How do I do this?" Luckily I was busy and not at the microphone, otherwise it could have picked me up saying, "You've gotta be kidding me." Later I felt bad for thinking she was an idiot. Turns out, the previous customer had driven off with the box, so there was nothing out there. True story.
This other time I was helping a girl in lane one. She finished her transaction, so then I greeted the man that had just driven up in lane two. While he was talking to me, he was distracted. He nearly gave himself whiplash trying to check out the girl in lane one that I had just helped. Dude, put your eyes back in your head. She was seventeen.
Finally, I love how people take the time to write a note to me. They send the note in with a hot mess of checks and cash and sometimes loose coin. Along with all this, they over identify themselves by sending in three different IDs. But in doing all that, they can't take the time to fill out their deposit slip? Happens all the time.
One day a woman drove up in her minivan and just sat there. For about a minute she just sat there staring at the tube. I was working on something for a lobby customer, so finally a coworker asked her if she could help. Now, she didn't buzz in. Normally people push the buzzer about 8 times to either annoy us or get our attention. The woman in the van just asked, "How do I do this?" Luckily I was busy and not at the microphone, otherwise it could have picked me up saying, "You've gotta be kidding me." Later I felt bad for thinking she was an idiot. Turns out, the previous customer had driven off with the box, so there was nothing out there. True story.
This other time I was helping a girl in lane one. She finished her transaction, so then I greeted the man that had just driven up in lane two. While he was talking to me, he was distracted. He nearly gave himself whiplash trying to check out the girl in lane one that I had just helped. Dude, put your eyes back in your head. She was seventeen.
Finally, I love how people take the time to write a note to me. They send the note in with a hot mess of checks and cash and sometimes loose coin. Along with all this, they over identify themselves by sending in three different IDs. But in doing all that, they can't take the time to fill out their deposit slip? Happens all the time.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Legends of the Bank Teller - Episode XXIII
The other day, a customer/doctor came by to make a deposit. He came into the lobby, and since the other tellers were helping clients, and I had no one at the drive up window, I did my duty and helped out. I've helped this same doctor before and have picked up the vibe that he just doesn't like me. Found out later he's just rude to everyone.
The deposit slip that he handed me was, I assumed, filled out correctly. He wrote the amount of the check to be deposited. He wrote the total at the bottom. Well, to say he filled it out correctly would be a stretch. See, he didn't fill out his account number. He never fills out his account number.
Notice I said that I assumed. Lesson learned: just because someone has an MD after their name, does not mean that they are competent enough to perform simple transactions at the bank. I ran his transaction based on what he wrote on the deposit slip (after I looked up his account number). And then, when I handed him his receipt, he pointed out that the check was for 20,000. Not for 18k which I had run the deposit for.
Why would I run the deposit for $18,000? I'm glad you asked. Because that's what he wrote on the deposit slip. And since I assumed that he was competent enough to write the correct amount on the deposit slip, I didn't pay attention to the check. I know, I should have. I usually do. Again, that's what happens when you assume.
So when he pointed out the mistake, he was kind of a jerk about it. He talked down to me like I was an idiot. I stood there and took it. I reversed the transaction and ran it correctly. I refrained from mentioning that he was the one who wrote the wrong amount on the slip. Seriously, how do you make that kind of mistake? How do you write 18,000 when the check is clearly for 20,000?
Again, I realize that I should have paid closer attention to his check. But from now on, instead of assuming competence, I'll just assume everyone is ignorant, no matter their educational credentials.
I swear, if stupidity were a fatal disease, it would be the number one killer in the United States.
The deposit slip that he handed me was, I assumed, filled out correctly. He wrote the amount of the check to be deposited. He wrote the total at the bottom. Well, to say he filled it out correctly would be a stretch. See, he didn't fill out his account number. He never fills out his account number.
Notice I said that I assumed. Lesson learned: just because someone has an MD after their name, does not mean that they are competent enough to perform simple transactions at the bank. I ran his transaction based on what he wrote on the deposit slip (after I looked up his account number). And then, when I handed him his receipt, he pointed out that the check was for 20,000. Not for 18k which I had run the deposit for.
Why would I run the deposit for $18,000? I'm glad you asked. Because that's what he wrote on the deposit slip. And since I assumed that he was competent enough to write the correct amount on the deposit slip, I didn't pay attention to the check. I know, I should have. I usually do. Again, that's what happens when you assume.
So when he pointed out the mistake, he was kind of a jerk about it. He talked down to me like I was an idiot. I stood there and took it. I reversed the transaction and ran it correctly. I refrained from mentioning that he was the one who wrote the wrong amount on the slip. Seriously, how do you make that kind of mistake? How do you write 18,000 when the check is clearly for 20,000?
Again, I realize that I should have paid closer attention to his check. But from now on, instead of assuming competence, I'll just assume everyone is ignorant, no matter their educational credentials.
I swear, if stupidity were a fatal disease, it would be the number one killer in the United States.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Science Rules
Remember in high school when you used to do all kinds of fun stuff in science class? No? You didn't do anything fun in science? Neither did I. I mean, we disected a cat once in biology, but that's about it. I remember taking chemistry and finding it pretty dull. No one lost a limb to the hydrochloric acid. I was a little disappointed by that.
I do, however, remember watching shows like Beakman's World and Bill Nye the Science Guy and wishing that we could do some of those experiments in school. 'Cause those TV science geeks made science experiments look like fun.
Today I stumbled upon a clip from the Ellen Show with some new science guy who does something cool with corn starch. Click the link and watch the whole video clip.
Kind of makes me wish I had a big ol' vat of liquid corn starch.
I do, however, remember watching shows like Beakman's World and Bill Nye the Science Guy and wishing that we could do some of those experiments in school. 'Cause those TV science geeks made science experiments look like fun.
Today I stumbled upon a clip from the Ellen Show with some new science guy who does something cool with corn starch. Click the link and watch the whole video clip.
Kind of makes me wish I had a big ol' vat of liquid corn starch.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Legends of the Bank Teller - Episode XXII
The other day my manager pulled myself and my fellow drive-thru worker aside and informed us of something interesting. I take that back. It wasn't interesting. It was annoying. She said she had received a phone call from a customer who complained that the tellers at the drive-thru were not friendly.
Excuse me? Not friendly? I may be a cynic in real life, but when I'm on the job I am all kinds of polite. My regular script is as follows:
"Good morning!" or "Hi, how are you today?" (depending on the time of day)
...then I run Joe Customer's transaction
"Thank you Mr. (or Ms.) Customer, is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Have a good day (afternoon or weekend)"
Is that not polite? I even smile. I'm sure it's a stretch for some of you to believe that I can actually curl that mouth up into a smile, but it can be done. I've even been caught on film.
I guess some people aren't happy unless they're complaining about something. And believe me, there are plenty of customers who seem to live for just that purpose.
Excuse me? Not friendly? I may be a cynic in real life, but when I'm on the job I am all kinds of polite. My regular script is as follows:
"Good morning!" or "Hi, how are you today?" (depending on the time of day)
...then I run Joe Customer's transaction
"Thank you Mr. (or Ms.) Customer, is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Have a good day (afternoon or weekend)"
Is that not polite? I even smile. I'm sure it's a stretch for some of you to believe that I can actually curl that mouth up into a smile, but it can be done. I've even been caught on film.
I guess some people aren't happy unless they're complaining about something. And believe me, there are plenty of customers who seem to live for just that purpose.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Epilogue to a Reunion
In the past I've refrained from using people's full names to maintain some form of anonymity. Anonymity is a joke. Besides, I keep saying I want lots of people to read this thing. So from now on, whenever I speak well of someone, and it's appropriate to use the full name, I'm gonna do so. That way, if someone wants to Google themselves, they might make their way to my little corner of the internet. But, uh, you know, if I have something not-so-flattering to say about someone I'll just use their first name. Or a fake name. 'Cause I'd hate to be sued for defamation of character or something like that.
I arrived fashionably on time, way abnormal for me. Generally, I show up to things chronically early. But when I got to Roanoke yesterday I went to my grandmother's to visit with her and Mom and April for a while. Before I knew it, it was 6:30. That's when registration was scheduled to begin. I got there just before 7, when the actual event was supposed to start.
The first people I saw, of course, were Jessica Smith and Allison Mease. These two ladies pretty much put the whole thing together. Gotta say, I was impressed. There's a lot of work that goes into planning an event such as this, and they've spent the last 12 months getting the class of '98 ready for this thing. Job well done.
I made my way into the reunion area and had a hard time recognizing anyone. Part of it could have been that 10 years have passed and some people look different. Part of it could be that 10 years have passed and I can't remember a lot of people. Part of it could be that I was crawling back into that shell that I mentioned yesterday.
After about five minutes of feeling and probably looking awkward, I recognized Eric Orange. I thought this part of the reunion would be weird. See, he's Jessica's ex-husband. And while I've maintained a good friendship with her, I haven't seen or talked to him since they split up. I guess she got me in the divorce settlement. It really wasn't that strange though. We spent a few minutes getting caught up. And then I moved on.
I made my way around the room, trying to find a table to sit at. One where I wouldn't feel like I didn't know anyone. Unfortunately, at first, that didn't happen. But then Beth Farmer invited me to come sit with her and her friend Karen. I remembered Beth, but I had completely forgotten that she and I were in the same group for our Decades project. We did the 1960s. Good times. So I had now established a place to plant myself for the evening.
And then you'll never guess who came over to talk to me. Tara Cronin! I know! She's like, one of the most popular kids in school! Seriously, cheerleaders never used to just walk up to me and begin a conversation. And, can I just say, 10 years ago, she was a cute girl. I was in school with her from first grade on. I won't lie, there was a slight crush there. And somewhere in the last 10 years, she went from cute to full-on gorgeous. I mean... wow. And, uh, what does it mean when a hot girl says you look really good? Twice? In the same conversation? Yeah, I didn't think it meant anything either. I just thought I'd ask.
Soon after, the buffet line began. Then came the slideshow of pictures from high school. I was surprised to see myself in a few of the pictures. Shocked is probably a more accurate description of how I felt about that. I'm the guy that only shows up on 1/16 of a page in his own senior yearbook. And then, there I was, sitting outside the Planet Hollywood in my Superman t-shirt. Good times.
The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. Jessica forced me to dance with her while Strawberry Wine played. I have a totally unrelated story regarding that song involving Dereck and Andy in a wig. I'll have to share that one sometime. Anyway, while we danced, we talked. I'm not sure if it was the wine or what in our conversation led to her question of "who's the most beautiful girl you know?" And even at that moment, I knew she wanted me to say her, but I just had to blurt out, "Honestly, right now, I gotta say Tara Cronin. Seriously, how hot did she get?" I don't think I really hurt Jessica's feelings, but she acted like I did. So I gave her a hug and said I was just kidding. But I wasn't really kidding. I mean, did you even see Tara last night? I mean... wow.
Guess that's it kids. See you at the 20. Maybe.
I arrived fashionably on time, way abnormal for me. Generally, I show up to things chronically early. But when I got to Roanoke yesterday I went to my grandmother's to visit with her and Mom and April for a while. Before I knew it, it was 6:30. That's when registration was scheduled to begin. I got there just before 7, when the actual event was supposed to start.
The first people I saw, of course, were Jessica Smith and Allison Mease. These two ladies pretty much put the whole thing together. Gotta say, I was impressed. There's a lot of work that goes into planning an event such as this, and they've spent the last 12 months getting the class of '98 ready for this thing. Job well done.
I made my way into the reunion area and had a hard time recognizing anyone. Part of it could have been that 10 years have passed and some people look different. Part of it could be that 10 years have passed and I can't remember a lot of people. Part of it could be that I was crawling back into that shell that I mentioned yesterday.
After about five minutes of feeling and probably looking awkward, I recognized Eric Orange. I thought this part of the reunion would be weird. See, he's Jessica's ex-husband. And while I've maintained a good friendship with her, I haven't seen or talked to him since they split up. I guess she got me in the divorce settlement. It really wasn't that strange though. We spent a few minutes getting caught up. And then I moved on.
I made my way around the room, trying to find a table to sit at. One where I wouldn't feel like I didn't know anyone. Unfortunately, at first, that didn't happen. But then Beth Farmer invited me to come sit with her and her friend Karen. I remembered Beth, but I had completely forgotten that she and I were in the same group for our Decades project. We did the 1960s. Good times. So I had now established a place to plant myself for the evening.
And then you'll never guess who came over to talk to me. Tara Cronin! I know! She's like, one of the most popular kids in school! Seriously, cheerleaders never used to just walk up to me and begin a conversation. And, can I just say, 10 years ago, she was a cute girl. I was in school with her from first grade on. I won't lie, there was a slight crush there. And somewhere in the last 10 years, she went from cute to full-on gorgeous. I mean... wow. And, uh, what does it mean when a hot girl says you look really good? Twice? In the same conversation? Yeah, I didn't think it meant anything either. I just thought I'd ask.
Soon after, the buffet line began. Then came the slideshow of pictures from high school. I was surprised to see myself in a few of the pictures. Shocked is probably a more accurate description of how I felt about that. I'm the guy that only shows up on 1/16 of a page in his own senior yearbook. And then, there I was, sitting outside the Planet Hollywood in my Superman t-shirt. Good times.
The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. Jessica forced me to dance with her while Strawberry Wine played. I have a totally unrelated story regarding that song involving Dereck and Andy in a wig. I'll have to share that one sometime. Anyway, while we danced, we talked. I'm not sure if it was the wine or what in our conversation led to her question of "who's the most beautiful girl you know?" And even at that moment, I knew she wanted me to say her, but I just had to blurt out, "Honestly, right now, I gotta say Tara Cronin. Seriously, how hot did she get?" I don't think I really hurt Jessica's feelings, but she acted like I did. So I gave her a hug and said I was just kidding. But I wasn't really kidding. I mean, did you even see Tara last night? I mean... wow.
Guess that's it kids. See you at the 20. Maybe.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Prologue to a Reunion
In a few short minutes, I will be in my car on my way back to Roanoke for the first time since January. The reason for this quick trip to the homeland? My ten-year high school reunion.
Now, before you chide me for participating in some sort of nostalgic nonsense, listen to why I'm going. First, I paid fifty dollars in the registration fee. That's not exactly money I can get back. Second, I made a promise to my oldest friend. And if I don't go, that would be going back on my word. And that's not what I'm about. Not now, not EVER!
And the Daytime Emmy goes to...
So I've got the pre-reunion jitters. I think I've come a long way in the last 10 years. I'm certainly not the person I was back in 1998. And I don't think of myself as 10 years older. I like to think of myself as 10 years more awesome.
But here's my fear: What if, when I get around these people who knew me in high school (or didn't know me for that matter), and I become that person again? Most of you don't know who I'm talking about. That person was the shy kid who sat in class, took his notes, never spoke up, and didn't get involved in anything. It's a persona that I shed once I got to college. Then I became (eventually) the person that I am today. I got out of my shell about midway through my freshman year. It's not a shell that I want to get back into. Even if it's for just one evening.
And what if she's there? You know who I'm talking about. That girl that the geeky kid had a crush on for four years but never had the stomach to do anything about it. I'm not saying I'd want to do anything about it now, but I don't think that would help in my not crawling back into my shell.
I guess before I go, I should just determine not to become that person. I should determine not to forget how to speak when confronted with the people who intimidated me 10 years ago. I'll be back tomorrow to let you know how it went.
Now, before you chide me for participating in some sort of nostalgic nonsense, listen to why I'm going. First, I paid fifty dollars in the registration fee. That's not exactly money I can get back. Second, I made a promise to my oldest friend. And if I don't go, that would be going back on my word. And that's not what I'm about. Not now, not EVER!
And the Daytime Emmy goes to...
So I've got the pre-reunion jitters. I think I've come a long way in the last 10 years. I'm certainly not the person I was back in 1998. And I don't think of myself as 10 years older. I like to think of myself as 10 years more awesome.
But here's my fear: What if, when I get around these people who knew me in high school (or didn't know me for that matter), and I become that person again? Most of you don't know who I'm talking about. That person was the shy kid who sat in class, took his notes, never spoke up, and didn't get involved in anything. It's a persona that I shed once I got to college. Then I became (eventually) the person that I am today. I got out of my shell about midway through my freshman year. It's not a shell that I want to get back into. Even if it's for just one evening.
And what if she's there? You know who I'm talking about. That girl that the geeky kid had a crush on for four years but never had the stomach to do anything about it. I'm not saying I'd want to do anything about it now, but I don't think that would help in my not crawling back into my shell.
I guess before I go, I should just determine not to become that person. I should determine not to forget how to speak when confronted with the people who intimidated me 10 years ago. I'll be back tomorrow to let you know how it went.
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