Through work, I happened to see someone from my past. 1979 past.
It was someone from the "cool" crowd, someone I wished I could hang out with way back when but I was either too intimidated to attempt that or they were too "cool" to bother with me. It is hard to tell now and does it really even matter?
I wouldn't say I went as far as idolizing this person, but I was jealous of the coolness I interpreted of their life. I envied her so much, her friends, what I thought her life was like-they lived in a neat house, drove the neat foreign car, her mother looked so exotic, and she wore the best stuff in the class.
I heard her talk more in that 30 minutes than I had in the 9 years I went to school with her. As I sit on the other side of the desk as they were interviewed, with quite personal questions, my whole envy/coolness/jealousy ideals from the past were covered with a wet blanket.
I couldn't help but think back to the girl that I thought I knew to the adult that was spilling details quite freely in front of me. It turns out her childhood was horrid with physical and mental abuse. I have no tale to tell like that about my childhood-I look back on my childhood up to graduation and smile.
As I sit there writing and listening to her, it struck me how I percieve things to how they actually are are similar to a funhouse mirror. But I already knew that, this was just an oddly placed reminder.
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4 comments:
It's a fact that I wish all kids could be told over and over again --- those 'cool' people have secrets that they hide with trendiness and fashion and bullying. It works pretty well in high-school, but it goes to shit out in the real world. Russ
I quite liked that entry. I was one of those "everything" people. I hung out with every crowd and called no clique my own. I'd go smoke cigarettes on the corner across from high school, in my cheerleader's uniform and my incredibly feathered hair, thinking I was just the shit. I agree with the above comment; at my 10 year high school reunion....(I looked great, by the way. just saying.)....the jocks had all gotten huge, fleshy, and bald(and the men were WORSE)....and the cheerleaders(the serious slutty ones, not me) had stayed snobby and within their delusion of being the best of the best, yet had bad skin, stupid hair, and were amazingly BORING..(it's funny, we all wanted to be those people but man I was so much more interesting. Hindsight, man. Hindsight.)...and the "losers," were members of the CIA, doctors, lawyers, and generally contented people in spirit. I wrote a chapter about it in my book and it still makes me smile. Sigh. It's almost good to be 36. Keep journaling!
It really is amazing to know what you can hide behind a nice outfit and a charming smile--and even more amazing to learn what other people have been hiding. I try, though not always successfully, to avoid people from my past--those I know too well, or know me too well. But then they turn up at the most inopportune moments; or leave messages on my answering machine that I shudder at--and erase.
Sim
awesome entry, and so true. Nothing is never quite what it seems.
Derek
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