In the immortal words of Sondheim… WHAT WAS THAT?

April 17, 2009

I was minding my own business in Trader Joe’s. Rosie and I were running errands because it was CAR DAY thanks to the wonderful Clara. Berkeley Horticultural Nursery was a joy. I got a goldfish plant… how cool is that? We went aisle by aisle though the huge Lucky’s. Nothing from Jo-Ann’s. Samples at See’s. Two aisles left in Trader Joe’s and BOOM. Or rather squeal.


17 years ago I graduated from high school. I did not like high school. I am no longer in contact with anyone from that time of my life. I do not go to reunions; I don’t belong to; I got a piece of paper and I moved on.


So there I was in the second to the last aisle of Trader Joe’s and someone from back then decided that I need to remember her. She wants to reminisce about people. Catch me up on her life. Ask what I’m up to. All this, even though we were in no way friends in high school. Same class, but that’s it.

The point of the conversation was not to say “I’ve missed you. Let’s have lunch.” Or even “What’s your email, let’s keep in touch.” It seemed to be nothing more than the fact that I have a recognizable face and we were forced into the same mandatory education institution.

It’s six hours later and I still have no idea what the point of all that was.

I guess some people have fond memories of high school. They like anything that reminds them of those good old days.

Me? I have fond memories of the Vatican exhibit at the de Young and every trip to the Steinhart aquarium with my dad. I remember being carried on my dad’s back when I was very little. I remember the bunny cake my mom made for one of my birthdays, and my stepmom standing up for me over dessert. I have a lot of wonderful memories. They are not of the high school experience.

I don’t need to see these people again. Now I just need to make sure they don’t feel the need to descend upon me.


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