Friday, September 26, 2008

Remember Him? From 5th Grade?

I often think the internet has really just brought us apart, that it is really only good for people becoming anonymous pricks or isolating them at home behind their computers, but then I'm reminded of its unlimited, never-before-seen capacity to connect with people from your past.

And the beauty? There's no commitment. You can catch up with people from your distant past, without actually have to go meet them for coffee. On facebook, I've connected with a bunch of people who I haven't seen since...primary school! It is comforting to see faces from the distant past all grown up. These faces also remind you of who you were. And that's not always so comforting because that's not necessarily who you are today.

I got a friend request from my college roommate, who was surprised when he saw me in a film called "Slutty Summer" because he remembered I was not at all slutty. I even chastized him for sleeping around during our sophomore year. And then there was another friend who wrote to remind me how we went to the Palm Springs White Party in 1995 and I refused even take off my shirt at the pool...because I was such a prude.

Who was I? I hardly remember that person. How times have changed...

...and yet how they stay the same.

One girl, Kristina, who wrote to say we worked at the Gap together in an Oregon mall back in the mid-90's. All I remember from working at the Gap is that I really looked like a Gap kid, and I hated that. Kristina remembers me differently, and let me understand that at the core we don't really change. We remain, in essence, the same person.

Kristina writes:

We worked in Washington Square at The Gap together. In fact, you are a central memory in my Gap experience because you were so hilarious and entertaining. Here is my favorite Gap memory that you have probably forgotten: some idiot decided to manufacture way too much hideous neon clothing that was then endlessly on sale in our store, we spent way too much time folding it one night, which led to you putting on a neon yellow vest and a yellow skull hat and then you danced/jumped around and said you were a banana. It was fabulous.


Michael Thomas Angelo said...

It seems implausible that over a decade has passed since I've been together with my college pals, but I'm so happy to be back on the radar. When I joined Facebook about a month ago I was overrun with a myriad of names I had written off as fictional characters.The daily status updats of my uber successful school chums became a gnawing reminder about the state I had made of my life. The only person I had been in semi-constant contact with since graduation was Jesse Archer. We maintained a pen-pal relationship through the years but lost contact for a couple until I happened to open an Out magazine last summer to view his beat visage next to an entire page of his column and byline. Michael Musto had hailed his recently published book, You Can Run as that year's best gay non-fiction. Jesse was a theatre queen who had never, to my knowledge expressed an interest in writing. The book was full of scandalous anecdotes that made me laugh out loud throughout the entire read. I found it ironic that out of all the people I knew at USC, Jesse would be the one to withstand the test of time. His eyes threw darts at me in college because I was always trying to tease him into coming out and joining the chaunchy Songfest brigade that me and my clan had put on the map with GLBA now GLBTA. Just look at what has transpired in the +decades since. I can't face it.

Ivana Humpalot said...

What a wonderful comment.