Back to IMSA

After visiting my old high school with Yifan (IMSA '06, Olin '10) on Monday, I finally got my IMSA password reset and seqed through a backlog of messages. It's been a while - months, verging on a year - since I checked my high school email and notesfiles (messageboards), so I've been woefully out of touch with the IMSA gang. Apologies for that, folks. I'm going to need to get better at keeping up wtih my alumni groups.

Walking through the hallways visiting teachers made me realize I was finally one of those crusty 20-year-old alumni that the 15-year-old kids look at with "who are you?" eyes. The last time I was back at IMSA, at least some of my younger IMSA friends had been there; now they're all graduated. None of the people at the couches (my old hangout between classes) knew me, nor did they know anyone who'd known me. Nobody was at the womb (another hangout nook under a staircase enclosed by a bench). I tried to sit in my old spot, but I'd grown a few inches and didn't fit quite as well any more.

Then I went through notesfiles and found out that while I've been chugging away at Olin, the folks I knew in high school have gone travelling, graduated, gotten jobs, gotten married, and then - baby pictures. That's a lot of people and things to keep track of - I wonder how older adults do it; they know so many more folks. I used to be amazed that my parents sent out hundreds of holiday letters every December; now I wonder how they keep the list down to so few.