I came across a scrapbook of mementos from my senior year in high school. It seemed like a good excuse for a time out from the task at hand, so I spent an hour paging through the ten-year-old playbills, letters, cards, and miscellaneous items--some with obscure significance known only to me, and a few with significance that even I can no longer recall.
It's a strange experience--not just to remember the past, but to experience the thoughts and feelings and impressions that 27-year-old Joie has of 17-year-old Joie. It makes me wonder what 37-year-old Joie will think of me.
I cried a few times while looking through that book. I miss my high school friends so, so much. I've lost track of every one of the ones who were dearest to me that year. Erika Jane Stanley, Ruth Hummel, Jeanette Soares, Casey Garner: if a frivolous google search of your name should ever lead you to this humble corner of Teh Intarwebz--please say hello and let me know where you are.
*Ten points to your house if you can identify the reference.
**Except that I didn't really use a katana.