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So, waiting for me on Facebook today:

1. Hey, one of my junior high school pals found me and wants to have a reunion with other kids in our class! Oh, great, awesome! I always wondered what the old crew from the Bronx was up to! Not really. I don’t want to know who’s lives went well, whose lives got fucked up, who went to jail (I don’t want to be an asshole, but I am from the Bronx), and who is already a grandparent.

What can I say. I didn’t really have a crew then. I don’t know really know how I feel about prople I knew from junior high. I’m not sure any good can come of it. I was well-known, but that was mostly for being the nerdy smart kid, not a role you really want in the Bronx. In a way, it was good, because I learned that just because people may look just like you, doesn’t mean they are like you, you know what I mean? (Ask John McCain if you need a clarification.) So in a way, it helped me look to broaden my horizons. On the other hand the taunting, the jokes, the social anxiety, and the realization that my life might have gone a little smoother if my parents had come from a Spanish-speaking country is all pretty frustrating. Sorry if you’re confused by this readers, but the combination of social strata, race, and language in the Bronx is a lot more complex than many of you will ever know, or realize.

So I have mad mixed feelings about seeing people from junior high. I hope many of them are doing well, really. But I’m not sure I want to relive old wounds, either.

Well, just when you think it can’t get worse…

2. Pubes! Some pictures from a summer house in 2006 are on there, and while I think I am somewhat vindicated (I always told you she pulled my pants down!) I don’t think anything can prepare you for seeing your pubes in living color. It’s not the whole package, mercifully, but…ah, I dunno.

And I thought those dating service ads were annoying…

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