Tuesday, January 18

[Where are they now?]
Tomorrow's my last day at Dillard's. Ahhh, what a relief. It's odd and sort of sad telling my co-workers goodbye for what will probably be the last time ever. I might tell them that I'll come visit, but I can't actually hold myself to that. To them, I'm just another jerk who won't ever look back. But they will be too, when they move on.

I've always lived my life as a jerk who won't ever look back. When I graduated high school and away from of Saltillo, I waved a bitter good-bye to Savannah and vowed never to get stuck back there again. When I visit Savannah, I feel such resentment in the pit of my stomach. I have a hard time pinpointing why, other than the rampant racism, classism, sexism, homophobia, and religious fundamentalism. I just don't feel at home there.

Savannah and Saltillo are full of interesting characters, though. Every now and then I'll remember someone who I used to like/hate/pass in the hall, and I'll give them a quick Google search. I rarely find anyone I know. But still, I wonder where these people ended up and what they're doing.

For instance, what happened to all the delightful freaks in my gifted class? I know what Tamara and Amy are up to. But as for the rest? I think about half of them went to the University of Memphis. I have no idea what they studied or if they made it out yet.

We had such fun in that class and drove Mrs. Gilchrist, our teacher, to tears at least once because of our collectively uncooperative nature. We never finished a damn project. We started tons of really cool ones, but got so bogged down in the details that we either gave up or ran out of time. We made elaborate dioramas of medieval castles (and spent many an afternoon outside spraypainting in the sun); balsa-wood bridges that could withstand much weight; a giant mural of an Amazonian jungle; and a magazine called "Now: the New, the Old, and What's Coming" that we sold during lunch. Of course, we also spent much of our time waging balsa wood wars and playing poker for spare change.

There was Amanda, the aspiring magazine editor (who, I believe, is in PR now) with a loud, distinct, infectious laugh.

There was Emily, the short artist with a quick wit who couldn't spell anything.

There was David, the quiet guy I didn't know very well.

There was Daniel, confined to a wheelchair because of cerebral palsy but good friends with David.

There was Jacob, who had a photographic memory. I spent much of my adolescence in love with him, but I have no clue if he ever knew that. He and Emily are cousins. It's weird because he's so tall and she's so short. Isn't that weird?!?!?!

There was Charlie, the percussionist who said everyone and everything was "stee-you-pid" and constantly tapped his foot and banged on things with his drum sticks because he could never be still or quiet.

There was Lynnsie, who got sun poisoning one time from the tanning bed and peeled off giant skin flakes and left little piles of them throughout the room. Oh yeah, she was smart, too. Salutatorian.

There was Stephen, who was smart but didn't really say or do much. I hear he's married now. And his brother is married to Emily's sister. We're from a small town.

There was Lucas, the quiet genius who scribbled something in my yearbook about evil Kamis (which are something like evil Japanese tree spirits, I think).

There was Amy, who was always good at math and science and had the best Southern drawl of anyone. She was part of my posse and had a mean crush on Stephen.

There was Tamara, who had frizzy hair and shared an obsession with lucite jewelry with me. We ignored most of our work and instead drew comics and passed them back and forth.

I wonder if I left anyone out. Probably. Oh, right, there was Sharon. She read Star Wars novels and word has it that she inspired a comic book and anti-Star Wars organization.

Tamara mentioned to me some time back that she would like to get everyone together for a little reuinion. But I don't know if I'm up for it. It's been so long and the group was never really that close. I think I would feel too self-conscious, just like I was in middle school all over again. That's really pathetic, but I think I'd just like to leave off where we left off and just whimsically imagine what their individual lives are like. You know, it's entirely possible that I might run into some of them while living in Memphis.

I guess this whole long-winded spiel is getting at one point: I don't want to be the jerk who never looks back when I leave Murfreesboro. So many and so much here hold special meaning to me. I don't want to lose touch with anyone to the point where I'm Googling them in five years, wondering what they're doing. I want my friends to keep the communication going, and to get creative with it if we have to. I've never really liked talking on the phone, but I'll talk on the damn phone if that's what it takes to stay close to the people I love. I'll miss everyone so much; our funtimes have been the best times of my life. It's so cliche, but it's absolutely true.

2 Comments:

Blogger phallicpen said...

Pillows and duct tape. No worries.

Love. Love will keep us together. Something something how the fuck does that song go? Too tired to Google.

Was her name really spelled "Lynnsie" or was that just another terrible adolescent cry for help?

Yours,
Aambre'

Wed Jan 19, 03:49:00 AM  
Blogger theogeo said...

Yes, love and stuff. Always remembering, never forgetting. That sort of thing.

Scout's honor, it was really spelled that way.

Wed Jan 19, 11:12:00 AM  

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