Sunday, May 22, 2011

These are memories frozen in time

Cape May Point, Summer 2001
That's me with the pink hair and goofy face, Liz and Ariel.

Recently, my friend, Liz, was back in town for a baby shower (Ariel's actually). I went to her mom's house to visit. I really should call it The Burrow since Liz's mother has kept me nourished since 1997. We hung out, reminisced and ate tofu fajitas. Chicken and steak were also available, because she is Mrs. Weasley and makes sure everyone has what they want.

At one point Liz said she had one of my yearbooks. I didn't believe her. When would I have brought it over? She disappeared upstairs and, sure enough, she returned with my 2001 yearbook. I felt old. This was from ten years ago. Then I read the ridiculous things people wrote to me and I was happy to have a decade standing between then and now. I was confused though. Why I would leave it at her house?

As if to answer me, a note fell out from between the pages. One look at it and I was very pleased to have so many years between me and the version of me who wrote it.

I always complain about "kids these days" with their horrendous grammar and spelling online and in text messages. My niece, 17, is a big fan of adding extra letters to words. I can only assume this is to highlight their imporrrrrtanceeeee. Imagine my embarrassment when I see that I was taking similar liberties with spelling and capitalization. And what's with all the stars? I know I liked them, but really, isn't this excessive?

And why am I questioning the date? Couldn't I have found confirmation of that somewhere?

I read the note and laughed at my sixteen year old self, which would have really pissed her off. Finally, I saw the bottom.

I was proud to have learned what P.P.S. stood for, I guess.

Guess what? I opened the yearbook and there was a page in the back, the top corner said, "Liz's pg" and the whole thing was blank! 10 years and she never signed it. Sixteen year old me, suspected as much.

I vaguely remember writing this note. Liz spent the Summer of 2001, working as a beach tagger in Cape May Point. This was after our sophomore year of high school and a month before I turned 17 and got my driver's license.

There had been some drama. Liz was getting close a boy she had known for many summers spent at The Point. They were starting up a fling, I believe. But then, our guy friend went to visit her for a few days and on his last night there was much kissing. Things were weird because they were friends and...I think that is what I needed the calling card for. Oh, the days before cell phones, when you had to pay for long distance.

I miss my pink hair. That is all.


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