high school

We were kids

Back in 1991 I joined a bunch of friends to meet up with pretty cool Maryknollers for a lunch birthday bash. The celebrant was a bubbly thin girl with unmistakeable big hair. After two decades of wild hair evolution (i.e. corn rows, skinhead, short and straight, etc.), she’s still thin. In fact, it seems like her hair is the only aspect of her that constantly changes. The rest of her continues to remain the same.

She still belly rolls today as she did when we had our nightly phone convos. She still raises the bar on thoughtfulness. She still regrets not attending ballet lessons as a kid, and makes up for it nowadays by attending strange dance classes ( I still say that those jazz classes involve some form of crazy doo-wop finger snapping). She’s still the physical manifestation of what most people would call “care,” perhaps the costume she’d wear in a values-themed Halloween party. She still thinks that beer could be better. She’d still add sugar in her SMB if she had the chance.

This morning, I incidentally noted that everything evolves, and perhaps she has too (besides the hair).  She’s a supermom to my very cute god-daughter. She now runs a portion of an organization that involves raising fingers to officemates. We were kids when we met, and now we are far from it.

However, even after losing things like college years and letters, we still are, without a doubt,  excellent friends.

I took the site name of this blog from a song that could have well  been written by her.

I was always hard to keep up with. I think I never said thanks.

I know you’ll act as a clever medicine.

with Jeng and little Akia