Watching my sister and several of her fellow squeal-filled 17 year old friends running around in my house asking each other they look with various clothes on brings back memories. Not of the squealing and running around in new clothes, but of my own farewell. High school to be exact, when all was sunshine and roses and we all had rose-tinted glasses permanently glued to our faces. When you finish High School, you're about as ignorant (and therefore blissful) as it is possible to be after entering your teens. You don't really know or care about how the world works, and employment, marriage, responsibility, it's all a distant dream, much like being 21. Once you actually reach it, you want to go right back to high school again.

I don't know why I'm going on about high school anyway. It's been five years. Half the girls in my class back then are married now and all the boys are working in their family businesses. A ten year reunion doesn't seem quite that far away now, as it did that one time on our farewell after all the guests had gone and we were alone in our old classroom once again, quiet and darkness all around and talking about how we would miss this wonderfully horrible dump we called home for the past God knows how many years. Back then, reunions were too far in the future to think about but now they seem almost within reach. Almost.

Disclaimer: No, this post has no point. Yes, incoherence and badly articulated thoughts are the law in this blog. If you want good writing, you'll find plenty of it in the bottom of the sidebar to your right.