Alma Mater

My ten-year college reunion is next month. I’m pretty sure I won’t be going. The thought of the five-hour drive from the Twin Cities to Green Bay (and repeating it two days later) doesn’t sound too appealing to me right now. Er, not to mention that most of the events are in inaccessible locations, at least as I remember them. But perhaps I’ll leave a message on the alumni bulletin board to brag say hello. I’m thinking back to my college years and, ugh, I was such a dork. A lot of it was typical twenty-something angst and insecurity, but I was still at a phase where I was really self-conscious about my disability and I was struggling to appear as “normal” as possible. I wanted to drink and get high and get laid, but because of various external circumstances (a lack of open-minded nurses, for one) none of that happened and I remember plenty of nights sitting at home and watching television and feeling sorry for myself. Actually, I probably could have gotten laid if I had tried a little harder and shown a little more bravado instead of constantly worrying that other people saw me as a freak.
I’m not saying I have it all figured out now. But a part of me wishes I could travel back in time ten or twelve years and tell that dork to relax and have a little faith in himself.