Alright.
Yesterday, I made the half hour drive back home from college.
Why?
I had forgotten my cell phone. >_<*
So, whilst I was there, I did somethiong that I never thought I would do.
I went back to my high school to visit my teachers.
gonk
I will repeat that, as it bears repeating.
gonk
I went and talked to my art teacher for a good half hour. Dorm life, my roomie, my art classes, she's pregnant again, her 6th period class is awful, and the normal conversation fodder of the general "What's up?".
After promising to bring her some of my new artworks to show her, I left to go visit my theatre teacher.
He's a grumpy, grouchy, slouchy, tubby middle-aged man. He's got a small bald patch, he smokes, and the entire school suspects/is sure that he swings "the other way" (or that's how one of my other teachers put it, the students generally say much worse). But I don't know, and I have have no intention of asking, so I will dwell no further on this point.
He's kind of hard to pin down. After being part of his regular line up of thesbians for two years, I have yet to figure the man out. I can never tell when he's joking or when he's serious, but that would go down to his acting ability.
He was offered a role on Broadway. He turned it down to let one of his former students take the role.
I do not know if this spurned some bitterness of his students, or if he's just evolving into a sourpuss in his old age, but he's good man, and his, for lack of a better term, "Theatre Clique" respects him.
Or fear him. The man has deadly aim with keychains.
But all of that is neither here or there. On with the tale.
I arrive in his room and he promptly tells me to get lost. I'm about halfway out the door before it occurs to me that he might be kidding. I slink back, and he's giving me a tired smile.
So we talked for a it. He knew what I was up to; my step mother (the school counselor) had informed him of my whereabouts and whatdoings in the process of attempting to garner a theatre scholarship (which due to my art majoring, could not even be applied for) to aid in my schooling.
As it turned out, I had chosen a fine day to drop by. It was a rehearsal day for the fall musical; this year's selection: "Oklahoma".
So I decided to stick around for practice and say hello to some of my friends that I had been missing.
And then it really hit me.
I was older. I was an "adult".
I wasn't one of them anymore. I was a collegiate.
I helped them clean up the stage. I swept up sawdust from set construction. I talked to them while we worked.
One of the guys who used to be so quiet and shy was running around, joking, shouting, declaring himself "king of the porch monkeys".
They were all seniors. All excited about project graduation. All full of hope.
All they all wanted out of there.
I hugged all of them, except for my theatre teacher, who I didn't run into on my way out.
And I almost cried on the way back to my college.
I wanted to go back.
I wanted to be there with them again, just having fun.
And I was like, " gonk ". Some of them would kill to be in my place now, and I'd kill to be in theirs.
I wish that I had more memories of them. But I guess that can be said of all of my life.
I forget easily.
The past escapes me...
Color Water Community Member 
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