(no subject)
My parents used to say that when you got out of high school, you'd never see those people again... Or at least you'd never have to see those people again if you didn't want to. However, I belong to the first of the Facebook generations, in which what you do will be posted and seen by all of your former classmates for the rest of your life, if you choose to be their "Facebook Friend".
I've been spending a bit of time looking at people's photos and pages, and wondering if this is what I expected to happen when I grew up... Would Lindsay and Mike get hitched? Would Carli and Chris? Who would still get together, who would still be friends to the end? And who would move on and make new friends... And have a new home? Who would have the pretty girlfriend?
It turns out that so much is different than I expected, and I didn't really want to know it all. I didn't want to admit how fragile I am, that the possibilities for my failure were every bit as likely as the next person's... That the class bully would become a beauty queen, or that she would never go to college.
Have I really moved on? Do I have my own feet on the ground? What about my Facebook profile is so different than my resume, another thing that I so detest. The most popular girls, some of them have thousands of friends, while some only have three hundred.
Who have I become, out of high school, and who do I have yet to become? The possibilities are many. However, one thing is for sure: It will not happen by me obsessing over comparisons between myself and the other people from my high school graduating class.
I've been spending a bit of time looking at people's photos and pages, and wondering if this is what I expected to happen when I grew up... Would Lindsay and Mike get hitched? Would Carli and Chris? Who would still get together, who would still be friends to the end? And who would move on and make new friends... And have a new home? Who would have the pretty girlfriend?
It turns out that so much is different than I expected, and I didn't really want to know it all. I didn't want to admit how fragile I am, that the possibilities for my failure were every bit as likely as the next person's... That the class bully would become a beauty queen, or that she would never go to college.
Have I really moved on? Do I have my own feet on the ground? What about my Facebook profile is so different than my resume, another thing that I so detest. The most popular girls, some of them have thousands of friends, while some only have three hundred.
Who have I become, out of high school, and who do I have yet to become? The possibilities are many. However, one thing is for sure: It will not happen by me obsessing over comparisons between myself and the other people from my high school graduating class.