November 17. 2000



An anecdote worth mentioning: I got really burned today at work, on my left hand. Normally I'd take a picture of it for the usual gross-out fascination value, but it's blistering really badly and I'm loathe to take off the bandaids. It hurt like hell, but after liberal doses of ibuprofen and neosporin, it doesn't anymore. Hm. Perhaps I should have a burn cam?



There was a question gnawing at the back of my mind for several weeks now, and I went to the internet last night in search of an answer. I don't know what made me start thinking about Rebekah, and to start wondering where the hell she was and what she was doing. I haven't seen her in over two years. My state of mind regarding her had progressed from, "Geez, I should really call her" to "I wonder where she is" to "I wonder if she even remembers who I am".

I have a really bad habit of not keeping in touch with people. Ask any of my relatives (sorry Grammy and Pop) or friends I had in high school. I just...forget about them, as cruel as it sounds. I move on to other things, other people, and individuals who were everything to me, who were constantly a part of my life just fade into the background.

And I found myself wondering about Rebekah. Last time I saw her was April 1998 at my high school's production of South Pacific. She thrust her number into my hand as the crowd surged around us, and we promised to get together soon. I had every intention of doing so, but Governor's School started at the beginning of July, and by the time I got back home in mid-August the summer was almost gone and my promise to her was forgotten.

She told me she had been accepted to the Neighborhood Playhouse School of the Theatre in New York City. That's the last I know of her whereabouts. I always envisioned her going to acting classes, going out on casting calls, maybe waitressing at some restaurant in the Village. Every time I went to NYC, I'd always keep an eye out for her, though I knew the gross impossibility of me seeing her, and even if I did, if I would recognize her or not.

The fondest memory I had with her was when I went up to New York City for a weekend in the summer of 1997, where she was staying for the summer to take some acting classes. It was a wild time, we were both 16, the city at our feet. We got cheap tickets to a Broadway show, and sat in the box seats. We wandered all through Soho looking in expensive vintage shops like Screaming Mimi's. Rebekah's hot 22 year old friend Tyler bought us alcohol, and I got drunk for the first time on wine coolers and some sort of awful cheap liquor called "After Dark". I promptly got horrible heartburn and threw up, which has been my body's reaction to alcohol ever since.

Anyway, sufficed to say, I couldn't find any trace of her on the net. The Neighborhood Playhouse is only a two year certification program, so she would've been long gone from there by now. I haven't exhausted all avenues, of course...I still haven't dialed 411 or called up her mother's number (presuming her mother still lives there). I will do that at some point.

But you know the weirdest part of this whole deal? That I'm getting old enough to lose people. That I've gotten to know enough people in a wide enough area to lose track of them. Do you know what I mean? Like in high school, everyone knows everyone, you moved within the same group of people, it was impossible to lose track of anyone (for better or worse). But now...someone whom I cared deeply for at a point in my life has just vanished, and I don't know anyone who could help me get in contact with her. I feel like my life has been spread out. And I feel strangely old because of that.

One Year Ago:
"But when I looked at the pictures from prom that I got back later, all I could think was "not me". It was a complete alienation from what I wanted to be and thought I was. Maybe it's because I perceive female as being something weak."