Ah, nostalgia. Yesterday, I went back to Chapel Hill High School, which is always both great and surreal at the same time. I was asked to speak at Tigerfest, which is a day when people come in from the community, and there are fun activities: when I was there, it was called The Humanities Festival. I remember one year the Hare Krishnas came, and I went to see them speak, which was VERY interesting. I can’t pretend to compete with the Krishnas, but I had a great enthusiastic crowd:
…although I have to admit I cringed BIG time when they pulled out my 1988 yearbook and passed it around, so everyone could admire my big 80’s bangs. Yikes! Then I got to sign a bunch of their yearbooks, however, which was very cool. It was all I could do to stick to my standard “All best,” and “Best wishes,” and not write stuff like “Best Friends Forever!” and “Have a Great Summer!” and “Never forget those great times in Spanish class!” Old habits die hard, I guess.
Before I left, I could not help but go out and check out the place where I spent a lot of time, the courtyard. Here’s the spot where I could be found most often:
Just picture me there, hanging out with Bianca and my big old bangs. The rugs were not there in 1988, let me just say. Or maybe they were? It WAS a long time ago.
In other news, I just finished the perfect beach read, just in time for the official start of summer: it’s called Lulu Meets God and Doubts Him, by Danielle Ganek, and it’s kind of a a Devil Wears Prada for the art world. It’s funny and sharp and gives great insight into the whole culture of galleries in NYC, which, as someone who knows NOTHING about all that, I found very interesting. I think it comes out next week, so keep an eye out. Worth your time.
Finally, I’m just not going to say much about Veronica Mars last night except that when it was over, with so much left unresolved, my husband and I just looked at each other, sighed, and said, “That sucks.” Maybe the CW, or Rob Thomas, or someone will come to our rescue and wrap it all up, somehow, give us some closure? Hope springs eternal. I mean, back in 1988, hanging out with my big bangs, I never would have believed in a million years they’d EVER ask me to come back to CHHS for anything other than prosecution for various transgressions or maybe unpaid parking fines. And yet, it happened. Anything is possible!