Back to High School: Ouch.

January is behind us and in front, Valentine's Day.  Thank goodness.  I was just starting to feel good about myself again.  Nothing like a holiday for love to knock a single chick back a few paces.  Bitterness isn't pretty but I wear it well.

Seriously though, February has been a good month thus far.  I've seen the blue peeking through the clouds and despite the frosty mornings, the days have been warmer than ever.   The other day a friend and I went to a high school basketball game at the tiny school in Lowell, OR that we graduated from.  The years haven't  been kind to our alma mater.   Or perhaps it is just that time has given us both different expectations and now we see flaws where once we only saw the coveted senior lockers, glass plated award cabinets, and friendships we thought we'd have forever.  

We reacquainted with old friends, caught up on all the gossip, and marveled at how some of the kids playing were (shockingly) the children of classmates.  Wow, Valentines Day and a two hour reminder that time continues to move even if you don't.   (Thank you, February!)  And to think, some people say you can never go back.  We did.  We saw our old basketball coach, still coaching.  We walked through the locker room that hasn't changed a bit.  The showers have the same tile, the lockers have the same baskets, and the floor...the same cold cement that made you rush from the shower to your shoes.   

Still, Lowell High was lovely.  Walking along the breezeway like we'd done a thousand times before brought back memories long forgotten.  Like the time one precious person grabbed my hands and threatened to break all my fingers if I ever called her brother again (over protective much??) .  I remember the boys who stood by the heaters...in the lone hallway that left us no option but to pass.  I don't even recall if they ever said anything but over the years my mind has convinced myself that they were cruel and taunting.    Today those boys are grown and not at all intimidating...just 40 something year old guys whose glory days have passed, much like us all.   Don't get me wrong, my friends and I did our share of cruelty.  The most horrific I still pay for today....saying my friend had a marshmellow butt in her white basketball shorts.  Of course, the thing she forgets is WE ALL had the same shorts and thus, we ALL looked like marshmellows.   She's as skinny as a rail now and my butt is twice or three times as large as hers.  I've gone past marshmellow butt and gone right to train ass.   

In today's world we could have been arrested for some of the things we did (and probably back then as well but we won't leave a paper trail).  Surely the heater boys would have been brought up on harassment charges.   Time has changed not only us, but our outlook on things.  I don't remember thinking anyone was a bully per se, but maybe they were.  Maybe we all were.  Maybe that's why the past is better left in the past...because if we stop to evaluate what we've done we will slowly pick away at who we are.   

It's good to go back to where you came from.  At least once.  But, it's much safer to get on the moto and just ride.