I had lunch with a girl I went to grade school with today. Grade school, elementary school, middle school: I'm never sure if other people mean the same things I do when I use those words, and that's just the Americans. So, we went to school together when we were preteens. Maybe 13 at the oldest.
She's the only person I knew in Ohio who lives in New York (well, not counting people I met on the internet), so the chances of us happening to run into each other must have been insanely low, and yet of course we bumped into each other. At Grand Central, no less, which is always too crowded. That was several weeks ago; we made plans to get together some time and had lunch today.
I don't remember grade school being particularly bad. I don't remember high school being particularly bad either though, but lately I've noticed that every single time I tell a story to explain why I'm neurotic about something, it seems to start with the words 'so, I had these friends in high school...' so my perceptions of things are probably not always the most accurate. I do remember desperately wanting grade school to end and high school to start so I could take more classes, do more things, and most important know more people. Of course that lasted about six months and then I started desperately waiting for high school to end so I could go to college for the same reason.
I was friends with this girl back in grade school, but we weren't terribly close, so we had to spend a while doing the 'I haven't seen you in a decade, what do we talk about?' thing. It always sort of amuses me to be able to realize when someone else is feeling awkward and uncertain of what to say, because for the longest time I thought I was the only person who did that. Whenever I see someone who I think of as socially competent doing it now it makes me want to laugh at us- myself and them- for both being so worried over the same thing. But she's nice, and it's interesting to hear stories about people I hadn't even thought of in years.
The thing I remember most about this girl is when I was writing a book and she always wanted to read it. I don't think I ever wrote more than the first few chapters, but I had the whole thing plotted out, and she would let me spend the longest time describing it to her and talking about it. All of the characters were named after various people in our class, and the main character was named after my best friend. Though her personality was clearly based on myself instead of her, since my best friend was afraid to raise her hand to ask questions in school and this character had to fight off serial killers and such. (Uh, not that I've fought off serial killers either.)
It was such a cheesy horror/thriller: about a group of friends who had always teased one boy at their school, until one day they accidentally killed him. But! years later! it turns out he didn't die, and he returns (or is a ghost, or something, I don't remember) to get his revenge on their children! Who he kidnaps and hides in a barn somewhere and is planning to brutally murder, except of course the main character kills him instead. With a hair stick through the eye, I think, proving that clearly I was a resourceful child, if somewhat disturbed.
Anyway, she made some comment about "being still bitter at middle school". I didn't ask her what she meant (...today), but I thought it was interesting. Because, again, I don't remember those years as being so terrible, but I think that's mostly because they didn't seem terrible while I was living them, and I think that's mostly because I didn't have anything else to compare the experience against. It makes me wonder how much people really change, or if we just react to our circumstances. Because certainly I don't behave the same way I did then, but I'm not in the same situation. If I had to live that again for a year, for years, I think I would do the same things I did the first time.
Or that just means I still agree with my decisions. *laughs*
She's the only person I knew in Ohio who lives in New York (well, not counting people I met on the internet), so the chances of us happening to run into each other must have been insanely low, and yet of course we bumped into each other. At Grand Central, no less, which is always too crowded. That was several weeks ago; we made plans to get together some time and had lunch today.
I don't remember grade school being particularly bad. I don't remember high school being particularly bad either though, but lately I've noticed that every single time I tell a story to explain why I'm neurotic about something, it seems to start with the words 'so, I had these friends in high school...' so my perceptions of things are probably not always the most accurate. I do remember desperately wanting grade school to end and high school to start so I could take more classes, do more things, and most important know more people. Of course that lasted about six months and then I started desperately waiting for high school to end so I could go to college for the same reason.
I was friends with this girl back in grade school, but we weren't terribly close, so we had to spend a while doing the 'I haven't seen you in a decade, what do we talk about?' thing. It always sort of amuses me to be able to realize when someone else is feeling awkward and uncertain of what to say, because for the longest time I thought I was the only person who did that. Whenever I see someone who I think of as socially competent doing it now it makes me want to laugh at us- myself and them- for both being so worried over the same thing. But she's nice, and it's interesting to hear stories about people I hadn't even thought of in years.
The thing I remember most about this girl is when I was writing a book and she always wanted to read it. I don't think I ever wrote more than the first few chapters, but I had the whole thing plotted out, and she would let me spend the longest time describing it to her and talking about it. All of the characters were named after various people in our class, and the main character was named after my best friend. Though her personality was clearly based on myself instead of her, since my best friend was afraid to raise her hand to ask questions in school and this character had to fight off serial killers and such. (Uh, not that I've fought off serial killers either.)
It was such a cheesy horror/thriller: about a group of friends who had always teased one boy at their school, until one day they accidentally killed him. But! years later! it turns out he didn't die, and he returns (or is a ghost, or something, I don't remember) to get his revenge on their children! Who he kidnaps and hides in a barn somewhere and is planning to brutally murder, except of course the main character kills him instead. With a hair stick through the eye, I think, proving that clearly I was a resourceful child, if somewhat disturbed.
Anyway, she made some comment about "being still bitter at middle school". I didn't ask her what she meant (...today), but I thought it was interesting. Because, again, I don't remember those years as being so terrible, but I think that's mostly because they didn't seem terrible while I was living them, and I think that's mostly because I didn't have anything else to compare the experience against. It makes me wonder how much people really change, or if we just react to our circumstances. Because certainly I don't behave the same way I did then, but I'm not in the same situation. If I had to live that again for a year, for years, I think I would do the same things I did the first time.
Or that just means I still agree with my decisions. *laughs*