Monday, March 12, 2012
Thank goodness for failing memories
I met Jan in 2nd grade and Cheryl in 6th--but it seems like yesterday. Until we drag out the photos and the yearbooks--then we remember that it was more than a few years ago that we first hung out. Oh, those old photos are fodder for snickers.
So, there we sat, telling stories about ourselves and our former classmates, dishing on who's up to what these days and.....well.....who got chubby. Or bald. Or chubby and bald. At one point, Cheryl said to me "I don't even remember you in middle school, Lin" to which I replied "Oh, thank god." I was a hot mess in middle school, but who wasn't, right?
I found it enlightening that in my absolute worst years of my life, when you think everyone in the world is judging you and focusing on what a slobbering idiot you were.......pretty much nobody was noticing. Gees, I just wish I knew that back then. And I wish I could make this happy feeling of inconsequence last forever--it sure is liberating. Oh, to think nobody remembered (or they were too polite to say it) what a dork I was!
I've posted a photo of 8th grade me on the night of my middle school graduation. I'm standing with a friend who probably doesn't remember who I am, or was. The reason why I post this is because he has since gone on to greater things, things that I never expected of him. We remained friendly in high school and he was involved in theater like I was, but I can't say I ever thought of him as a great talent or anything. He was just in the plays and so was I. I don't even remember him having a starring role or anything. He was just a nice guy I remember knowing a long time ago.
It's funny how those years are sort of a wash in remembering what anybody else did in those awkward years. Oh, I can tell you handfuls of silly, foolish things that I did to embarrass myself, but I can't tell you for the life of me, what Jan, Cheryl, or Bill did back in those days. I just remember thinking that everyone else was so put together while I was a mess.
I wish I knew that none of it matters 30 years later and that my mother was right when she said that everyone was more concerned with themselves and wouldn't notice what I was doing. Inconsequential is good, you know?