Yeah, they'll pass you by.

These days, I feel like I'm pretty good about staying in touch with people that I don't see that often. Of course, things like blogs, Facebook and texting help that. Even though I may not SEE all of my Wichita peeps as often as I'd like, I still know what everyone's up to, and we talk pretty frequently.

This is a new phenomenon in my life, though. Up to this point, I'd say one of my biggest personality flaws was that I lost touch with people pretty freaking easily. I'm not a huge phone talker, and I guess there is some truth to the phrase out of sight, out of mind. Unless it's one of my closest friends, I'm not great about seeking people out to catch up. I moved on pretty easily.

Last night was a great illustration of this. Bets, Mitzi and I went to see the Journey tribute band again, which features a drummer who I went to high school with. Last time we saw them, I didn't really see anyone I knew. That's okay with me.

Last night, there was a whole crowd of SMN folks. It was the whole drama crew. People who I spent a ton of time with in high school, but always at school during play practice or drama classes, never out of school. We ran in different circles, I guess you could say. As soon as they came in (together) I recognized everyone one of them, and then out of the corner of my eye, I watched them stare at me for about half of the evening, ostensibly trying to figure out if it was, in fact, Jill they were seeing.

I haven't lived here in 15 years, if you count college.

There's only two people who I knew in high school whom I still talk to, see or e-mail on a regular basis. One is here in town, one lives in Florida.

Here's the thing, though: I sort of like it that way. I'm not the same person I was in high school. I would like to think most people aren't.

I can't imagine what I would have in common with people I haven't seen in 10 years. I suppose we could swap stories about the "glory days" but that only lasts so long.

Back to last night: Yes, a couple of them finally came over to say something. I think I would have been happier to just skip all of that. It was so loud, so I could hardly understand Betsy and Mitzi, whom I talk to all the time, let alone people who are strangers to me now. A sample of conversation:

"Are you Jill?" (Really? Do I look THAT different? No.)
"Wow, good to see you!" (Screaming over the music, then insert giant awkward pauses.)
"Where were you living?" (Still screaming.)

I didn't really ask any questions. I'm really self conscious about screaming in people's ears.

I probably would have enjoyed catching up with these guys - in a quieter environment, and not a group of 10 all at once. I had the "monkey in a zoo" feeling for a while. And I don't even like to talk to Adam or the twins over live music. It's incredibly awkward to scream into someone's ear, and it's a little familiar to be that physically close to someone who is not your close friend.

I knew eventually this day would come. We did move back to my hometown, so yes, I'm going to run into people from my "former life." I guess I should come up with some stock conversation starters...

I am very shy around people or groups that I don't know well. It takes me a little bit to warm up. I'm always trying to find my place in the group and I don't want to mis-speak or do something stupid. That's exactly how I felt last night. As I got older, I grew out of this as a necessity of my job. I had to be able to approach people as a news photographer and I met so many people every day that it just became easier.

I'm very bad about assuming shy or quiet people are being aloof or snobby. (Pessimist, I guess.)
If those guys are anything like me, they might be Googling me as we speak. I hope if any of them find this, I don't sound snobby. It's just amazing to me how quickly I reverted to that person I was back then, who was so worried about being accepted.

I do not miss those days.