Whatever Happened To You . . .

I know this shouldn't make me feel happy. I really do. But I gots the endorphins going and the serotonin levels are probably off the charts.

Last night I was drinking and googling (kids, drinking and googling don't mix! OK, there's my public service announcement), and I came across a very recent photo of the first chiqua I ever dated. We met the summer before my sophomore year of high school, and I ended up moving (thanks dad, ppppphhht) about two months later. Anyway, from what I remember, she was petite, had a cute button nose, beautiful green eyes, dirty blonde hair and a well-toned body (she was on her high school swimming team and field hockey team).

Now, either my memory is viewing things through rose-colored glasses or time really changed her.

She's now a resident at one of the UC med schools, and there was a photo of her in an article about cutting down on the number of hours residents can put in during a week. What does she look like now? You can tell there used to be a cute girl, but now, well, her face has fleshed out and her hair has turned from dirty blonde to mousy brunette. She looks like the type who'd wear orthopedic shoes as casual wear. If you saw her walking down the street, you'd immediately forget what she looked like as she turned the corner.

Meanwhile, I look much better than I did in high school. My face has lost some of its fullness so it's not so moon-shaped. The cow-like placidity in those high school photos have now been replaced (hopefully) by some confidence and intelligence.

Yeah, I know I shouldn't feel better because of this. In her defense, I think she's getting married soon so she's one up on me in the social thing. But still, it's nice to be reminded that I'm not the same person I was in high school.