and while we're talking about ani

flashing back to senior year, hazy and dry in the month of may, three weeks from freedom, three weeks from what we knew would be the last time we'd see so many of these people who made up the pointilist picture of our lives to this point. restless. excited. worried. distracted.

piled into a 78 volvo sedan, auburn leather interior, to drive four blocks for coffee and another four to the house of the smallest, she behind the wheel. it's early enough that the fog has not burned off the streets yet but the daffodils are blooming and my eyes are on fire.

and then we arrive. and we trundle out. and we collapse on the sofa, the sofa in the center room of this cozy victorian home near the high school. and we put on living in clip. disc 2. and all conversation falls silent. and all we can do is listen. and contemplate. it is listening to this album that we all get the first impression of just what it is we're all going to be getting into, of what we're all about to do.

and it's scary. and it's wonderful. and i remember at those moments being so suffused with agitation and contentment, pulling like a restless pony so anxious to run towards my future, to find out what i'll become, content to stay where i am with these people i love in this place i've learned to call home.

i still remember that, nearly six years hence, i remember it so well. and i still use it as one of my benchmarks of happiness.

even though i haven't spoken to them in several years.