strange moments in time
I have a strange fixation with giving blood. I went to give today before class and sat next to this Jewish guy translating some holy hebrew text, who seemed as gung-ho about effortless altruism as I was. But the clock was ticking so I ended up ducking out before my evaluation and running to class.

It's a good thing I did, because class lasted all of five minutes before the prof handed out evaluations and left. And we had to turn in our final papers.

Then I headed back over to the bloodmobile, where I was seated next to a cute hulk of a boy who immediately saw that I'd been to Japan on my sheet (and consequently probably also saw that I'm taking birth control pills) and started to chat with me about it. He'd live in Japan for three months doing Camp Adventure in Okinawa and Yokohama. We geeked out about Tokyo for a few minutes, and the Japanese language, before it came out somehow that he was from Seattle. So am I... my family's lived on the East Side for several years now. No kidding, he says. He grew up in Factoria. Went to my high school. Graduated in my class. And I have no idea who he is.

His jaw dropped when I told him I went to Newport. He obviously had no idea who I was either, but suddenly seemed a whole lot more interested. He asked me who my friends were and I sheepishly had to admit that in the two years I was there (junior, senior), I trolled some friends but never made any good ones. And I *can't* remember names, except that of one girl in the grade above me. When he tells me his name, I recognize it instantly. He was one of those popular kids. But there's no connotation to it. What kind of person was he? I can't remember. He named some names of his friends and they all register much the same.

At that point he was called in to have his iron count evaluated, and I mulled over what had just happened. Newport had some nice popular people and some asshat-ish ones. I'm not sure who Eric Butterfield hung out with, but it's certain that he wouldn't have given me the time of day six years ago. Strange how things change.

High school owes me some reparations for kicking my ass six ways to Sunday. It was nice to meet someone who didn't dredge up disappointing memories but instead confirmed my hopes that Bellevue can indeed produce people interested in more than their own material wellfare.

I didn't even end up giving blood. My iron count was too low (shock, surprise, I'm on my period). As I walked out I gave a nod to Eric, thinking I'd just call it good at that and not risk bringing up my awkward in-between years. But he wanted my number, so we might meet the last weekend of break when I'm in Seattle. Serendipity is a powerful thing. Either that, or I've just gotten a whole lot better looking.