yearbook

I hate to admit it, but I'm on Myspace. I think it's kinda stupid--not in general, but just for me to be on Myspace--but I don things I think are stupid all the time. I've actually been able to reconnect with one friend since I got on it, so I guess it's worth it for that alone. I can also check in and see how my friends back home and out of town are doing, and that's cool too. It's got a feature where you can list what schools you graduated from and what year you graduated. On your profile page, that year turns into a link to a directory of everyone else who uses the site that graduated that same year from the same school you did, assuming of course they made note of it on their profile. When I first joined the site, I marked down my college and class year; even though I'm all butt hurt about the financial hole the place threw me into, I was still pleased with the school overall, mostly because all my professors, save one or two, were wonderful, and one of whom was the most intelligent, thoughtful person I've ever met.

Over the weekend, though, it occured to me that I could also enter in my high school and graduating class. I don't know why I bothered; I think it was the same sick fascination with sorta spying on people that drew me to the site in the first place. I'm such a voyeur.

I didn't have many friends in high school. Every semester, I'd end up shuffling in with one group or another, quite by accident, but I honestly don't remember any of their names. I don't think I told any of them mine. At one time, I was hanging out with a whole bunch of people from Trinidad, because I used to save them a table in the lunch room. In my junior year, my sister entered the school, and so did D., who's now one of my oldest friends, but since I was an upper classmen, I never really saw them. I knew people I graduated with, and if any of them knew me, they'd probably remember me as the creepy quiet nerdy kid with the really bad hair.

Regardless, I entered my high school, and there they were, 16 of the class of '94--and I remembered all of them. It freaked me out to no end. Most of my friends didn't go to college, and none of them were in my school, and I believe the only person I knew in my graduating class was my sister, who sat next to me at the ceremony (that was a great day), so perusing my fellow college classmen wasn't much of a jaunt down memory lane. Checking out my high school graduating class--11 years later--opened up the floodgates of shame and resentment. I never want to go back to those days, but I read carefully through all of their profiles. I narrowed my eyes at the evil snobby bitch who was my classmate from fourth grade through high school. She even went to the same church as us. When God didn't strike her down upon entry, I began to lose my faith.

All of them except myself and two others still live on Staten Island and all of them except one is still unmarried--and I'd totally do the married chick. I keep checking back to see if anyone else has resurfaced; it's odd to me that these people still exist.