So, I walk out of the ladies room at the gynecologist's office this week after "emptying my bladder" (as the office ladies put it) prior to my annual exam. One of the women that works there is waiting for me anxiously as I emerged. "Do you remember me?" she asked. Proud of my recall for people's name, I say of course and say her name, which is unusual enough to not forget. But she didn't mean that. She wanted to know if I remembered her from high school (I didn't). And if I'm going to attend the reunion next month (I'm not). Honestly, just thinking abou seeing people from high school makes me nervous. I didn't fit in then. And I still don't to some degree, I'm sure. Why would I want to put my life, and my weight gain, on display for a bunch of people that I didn't like 15 years ago? It's not that I'm unhappy with my life. Far from it. I just don't want to be put up for scrutiny and comparison. Recently while shopping, I ran into a guy that I went to school with. He refused to help me if I couldn't tell him his full name. I remembered his first but not the last. My recollection of him is hazy. Kind of the smart, loner type that I often sat near in classes arranged alphabetically. He seems to remember quite alot about me. According to him, I was great at solving equations. I don't recall that myself. Anyway, he's become quite a pest and whenever Sweets and I shop where this guy works he always finds a reason to "help" us. He's loud and a show off, flexing his masculinity and bossing people around. Last time we ran into him he was very rude and blurted out that he wanted to know how old Sweets is. That he'd been wondering for some time. Jeez Louise! Can't we just go to the store without this kind of crap. This is one of the perils of choosing to live in the town you grew up in. Sometimes you can't shake the people who think they own a little piece of you because they knew you when.