Yes, I realize the many meanings of the heading for this entry...and I hate to disappoint but this entry is going to be about nostalgia and maintaining relationships from youth. It is pivotal to the title of my blog, as well.
I was thrilled, because I got an email the other day from one of my buddies from high school. Before I continue, let me set the scene here:
I transferred to my local public high school my junior year after an awful experience at a private girls prep school that prepped me for nothing more than anxiety attacks and lonliness. I had the good fortune of developing some degree of poise and social skills the summer prior to the school year by working as an activities aide at a local nursing home. When you have to maintain "natural" conversation with an elderly person while at the same time they are visibly filling their catheter bag, you shift focus to smiles, lively banter, where to put your eyes...
Learning to overcome otherwise awkward situations helped me leave all fears of a new school and new classmates - this time including BOYS for the first time in my life - behind me and I began the year in a relaxed manner.
Since I knew no one, I was assigned a lab partner in Physics class. He was a slight, quiet, but obviously bright young guy (well my age, of course, but he looked much younger at the time.) He was very polite, from what I remember, and at times would even "dress up" for school with a shirt and tie. I thought this guy must have come from a prep-school background like myself. The loose necktie, the good manners, following direction in class... but for some reason, he didn't seem to have a tight group of friends. (I would come to understand years later, that he was, in fact, a classic/tragic "wrong side of the tracks" kid, a likely inspiration for that brilliant movie,"Rushmore." )
We chatted mostly during class, as I was largely focussed on being competitive in academics at the time - one of those intense teens who views her self worth solely on the precarious combo of SAT scores and personal style (as in, being the new-wave queen of 1985.)
No one else in the class - or in the school, for that matter - made much effort to introduce themselves, welcome a new kid, - but that's par for the course with teenagers, and I wasn't disappointed. I didn't have expectations of becomeing part of a power-clique; I just wanted to fit in, maintain my grades, and have some fun in the process.
As things would have it, this shy kid became something of a "teen dream" to many of the younger freshman girls the following year. He was a late bloomer and shot up that summer from 5'6" to nearly 6' tall, plus he underwent a complete style overhaul from quiet studious kid, to kingpin of the hipster skateboarding set. It didn't make my head turn but it made me happy that he was finally getting attention from girls, which I think every nice guy deserves.
I was also happy for him because I had gone through a similar metamorphosis at the end of age 14 when I traded in my Bermuda bags, pageboy haircut, and penny loafers for spiked belts, assymetric hair, and an insane collection of terminally uncomfortable "jelly" shoes. (Cut me some slack - it WAS the 80's!!!)
I think we were friends, because we were both in honors classes but weren't uptight pains-in-the-ass like many of our HYPE classmates (HYPE-kids are those gunning for addmisions to Harvard, Yale, or Princeton - or in our community, top choice was uber-liberal Brown). We were also tuned into that whole 80's punk music (and fashion) scene.
I regret that I didn't spend that precious time in school really developing deep friendships with anyone in particular. When I went away to college I became what this blog is named for: a Philly Expatriate. No ties (except family, of course) to community, friends...
So to re-establish a connection with an old friend...its cool, makes me feel like I am not such a stoic hardass when it comes to relationships outside of my family. And I am also glad to find that my pal is still bright, and creative, and ...well, genuinely interesting. We don't share many specific interests or lifestyle (except likely, a love of cheesesteaks) but that is not nearly as important as being thoughtful and engaging.
Again, to reassure anyone who may think otherwise, there is no "romantic" connection here. My husband has been teasing me with some note of jealousy in his tone about my recent e-mailings with my friend, J. It is solely a connection of nostalgia, of a shared tie to a community that I sometimes regret leaving behind me (he is an ex-pat as well, now making his home in NYC.)
I feel a tinge of jealousy when I visit my sisters and they have gaggles of friends over for parties and such: people from high school, co-workers, a friend-of-a-friend... the concept that I may be able to have an old friend from "back home" - even if its just to put on my x-mas card list - is bizarrely comforting to me.
Don't get me wrong - I have real-time friends here in the midwest. But most of them are FROM here, or at least from this region of the country, and there are some very distinct cultural differences that I have never fully assimilated into my persona. Yes, I have a love-hate relationship with...geography. I don't want to move back there, but like a car wreck, I find myself unable to look away.
