I am drawn to looking at my high school reunion web site. It’s the same kind of compulsion you would have to look at a bad auto accident when driving by. I read the stories and the names and none of it means anything to me. The people I hung out with are obviously not active in the forum. It could be some other high school, far far away from mine, from another time, for all it means to me. And yet, I can’t help but go back and read their stories. Their posts on the forum. I keep waiting for something to mean anything to me.

I did learn that the stoner boy who like me, in the 10th grade I think… maybe 11th, because I told him to “fuck off” died of an overdose on his honeymoon. On career day, I was joking around with friends, and insulting some guy friends of mine. As per usual. We were in one of the rooms for the universities, I remember that. Anyway, this guy thought I was talking to him, so he called me a bitch. And I said, “fuck off! I wasn’t even talking to you!” He liked my sass, I guess.

From that day on, for a couple of weeks, he would corner me in the hallway. He’d say “Hey” in that way only the chronically stoned can say. And, I, being the clean and sober prissy dork, would say “yes. ok. hey. do you want something? I have to get to class” and scurry on. The last thing I wanted, at that time in my life, was to deal with someone so obviously on drugs. For reason too numerous to talk about now. He scared me. Not in a “I think he will hurt me” way. But I just wanted him to leave me alone. Eventually, he did.

On the high school reunion forum, they are talking about what a sweet, troubled guy he was. I never got that. I didn’t think he was bad, or mean, or dangerous. Just … foolish. And I had no tolerance for that behavior. I was pretty naive back then. Thank god I left Oklahoma for California after graduation. My world view was so tiny. I had no idea. I remember being shocked, amazed, and delighted to meet liberals at San Diego State. That was just so unheard of in my high school. And my father raised us to believe Democrat was a dirty word. Literally, my little brother thought it was a dirty word. And the music! Oh my god, the music was incredible, once I left Oklahoma and discovered college radio.

ummmm… what’s my point? Oh, nothing, I’m just getting sleepy and weirdly nostalgic on a Sunday night. I’d better go wash my face and figure out what to wear to work tomorrow. Maybe I should feather my hair… what do you think?