We all have one: the friend who blows you off, who drops you like a hot potato as soon as she meets a cute boy, who just needs to borrow $5 and seriously she’ll pay you back like, tomorrow. If this girl was your boyfriend, you would dump her a**–but can you really dump a friend?

I met Rebecca in the Spring of our senior year, in an English class, and it was like we had known each other forever. In only a few short months, I felt like I had a new best friend, someone I could rely on and who always understood me. I could totally be myself around her; my sometimes-goofy, sometimes-awkward sometimes-downright-weird self.

In short, it was friend love (Flove?).

I was leaving for grad school in the Fall (in another country), so we resolved to spend as much time together as possible that Summer. Now, I’m known among my friends as being a leeeeetle bit on the anal side when it comes to making plans, keeping them, and being early. I’m always early, at least by 10 minutes, to just about everything. If I make a plan with you, I will be there, rain or shine. Rebecca, on the other hand, always seemed to be in the midst of a calamity. The subway was delayed, or she accidentally fell asleep, or there was some kind of crisis, so she was going to be late. I spent a lot of time waiting for her to show up. Sometimes she’d never show up at all, calling later to apologize, and I always just acted like it was fine. Read More »

I know people who look back at high school and wish they could go back. I know people who want to leave it in the past and never look back. And I know people who could really care less either way. I don’t really know where I fit in that, but I know that my high school – the second one, since I transferred halfway through – and a few of the teachers had enough of an impact in my life that I feel like I at least owed them a visit. So I did.

Now, let me explain something real quick to you guys; teenagers scare the living shit out of me. No, really, they do. After being teased and taunted for years, a group of teenagers giggling and laughing anywhere near me automatically puts me on edge. But I was willing to walk through the halls infested with these loud cockroaches to see my old teachers.

I went to a school with a mild crime problem, so of course there was a security van parked in front. When I passed by, the guy honked at me, and I groaned to myself. I really didn’t feel like dealing with security, but I turned and went over to the car. Turns out it was one of my favorite guards, and he greeted me pretty happily before I went in.

I made the rounds to my favorite teachers. Two of them – two of the most important to me – weren’t there, so the chances that I’ll go back to see them before the year is up are pretty high. I was surprised how everyone remembered me so well. Probably the funniest reoccurring question was, “Are you seriously a senior?” Three years didn’t really seem like a lot, but it was. The auditorium and the music wing were both redone, and all of the kids had LAPTOPS. At the risk of sounding like an old grump, when I went to school, we didn’t get laptops. We had to crowd around one of the four computers in the room and share. Dang nabbit. Read More »