That Apple Guy

No not Steve Jobs although I am a big fan of his products.  I’m referring that other apple guy, Sir Isaac Newton, who discovered these universal laws when an apple fell on his head.  Rumour has it.  I never took physics, pretty much avoiding science like the plague when I was in high school, but as I’ve grown older I realized how much I missed out.  I think I would have had a blast in physics.  I still may go back and take a class at some point just to do all those experiments.

So one of the laws The Newt came up with was his third law, that being “for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction”.  I’ve heard this bandied about over the years but never really gave it much thought until recently.  I’d always thought it was that whatever action I did, there was something out there that negated it or zeroed it out.  I had kind of an aha moment when I realized that what it really meant was whatever action or energy I put out to the universe, it generates an energy comes back to me with equal force.  So if I’m putting out negative energy such as “this will never work out” or “I’ll never be successful” or “that’s impossible to accomplish” then that is what I will get back, a whole lot of negative and nothing.  But if I put out positives “I’m going to have a great day” or “I’m going to be a success” or “yes I can” or “I’m going to book a job” then that is what I’m going to get back in spades.  I know it sounds all mystical and touchy-feely but hey, I’m talkin’ physics here.  That’s hard science right?  Can’t argue with a law that’s been around for over 200 years and still remains relevant now can you?

High School Reunions

Last weekend was my High School reunion.  I’m not going to say which one it was because it’s noneyabidness but it was long enough ago that we’ve all mellowed a bit.  Or at least we now have the funds to bail ourselves out if things get too out of hand.  I always attend these with mixed feelings because my high school years were not those of 90210, Glee or Gilmore Girls and most certainly not like Gossip Girls!  High School was difficult for me.  I didn’t fit in in many ways, wasn’t a jock or a Cheerio, light years away from a brainiac, I’d skipped a grade so I was a year younger than everyone, didn’t have an older sibling to help pave the way, went to a parochial school instead of a public school.  Nothing really to make my transition to this awkward time any easier.

My freshman year was the year the school board decided to move the 9th grade from the middle school to the high school.  As a result there were about 850 new students, freshman and sophomores, trying to navigate our way into the “big leagues”.  You’d think that would make it easier since over half the school was new but not for me.  Everyone seemed to know each other already since they’d been fed from the middle school.  I stumbled through the first year but didn’t really find my friends until the next group of freshman came in and I started hanging out with them.  Guess I just needed to be with people my age instead of grade.

Because of this, whenever a reunion approaches I’m not struck with the overwhelming desire revisit the memories.  I wasn’t very close to my classmates and haven’t really maintained attachments post graduation.  I went out of state for college and never resided near my hometown.

Having said that, I’ve attended each one.  I sometimes scratch my head over my desire to reconnect but I still spent some very important time with these people.  We had the same experiences, teachers and memories.  Maybe it’s sadistic of me to attend but I’m really curious as to where my peers lives have taken them.  I know I’m a far cry from who I was during high school and I wonder if others evolved as well.  And that seemed to be the case at least among the attendees.  The essence of who they were in high school was still there but it was so much fuller and fascinating.  There were quite a few people like myself that were embarking on their second careers.  Others that were raising families in various stages and ages.  But everyone seemed very happy to be there and really interested in finding out about everyone else.  The cliques seemed to vanish…FINALLY!  Of course we only had a small percentage attend so maybe I’m not getting a full picture of the class.  But I left that evening with a fonder filter with which to remember my school years and school mates.  Oh, and really sore feet.  Fabby looking shoes but oh the price I paid!

Oh Brother!

Today is my brothers birthday.  He’s the one next to me in line so he’s the oldest male in the family.  We are 20 months apart in age but since I was Miss SmartyPants and had to skip a grade, we were 3 grades apart.  In high school the age difference was probably the broadest as he was a freshman when I was a oh-so-cool-I-can’t-talk-to-you senior.  I mean I had my driver’s license.  Come on, how much cooler could I get?  Oh I’d deign to talk to him when I was giving him a ride to school in the mornings.  Poor guy, my extensive ministrations every morning meant we were flying to school as fast as my 1972 Chevy Nova V-8 engine could carry us.  He inevitably was sprinting across the railroad tracks from the student parking lot in a vain attempt to not be late for his first hour of class.  Whatever, he was a freshman.  They’re supposed to suffer.

Strangely enough he followed me to college and enrolled in the engineering school at Marquette my senior year.  There is an infamous story about his interview with the Dean of the engineering school that I accompanied him on.  As I’d done for most of his life, I proceeded to answer all the questions the Dean asked my brother.  At which point the Dean turned to me and oh so elegantly led me down my path of self betrayal “So, do you want to attend Marquette?” he asked.  ” Oh no sir” I replied with no little bit of condescension “I’m already enrolled here”.  He smiled and replied “then I don’t need to talk to you do I?”  The smile on my brother’s face was priceless.  Someone had finally told his sister in no uncertain terms to shut up.  Yes Virginia, miracles do happen.

As we’ve aged, the age difference has dissipated.  In fact, sometimes I think he’s more mature than I am.  He created (along with his beautiful wife) the family I’d always wanted.  He’s been the rock I’ve turned to more times than I can remember, especially these past 20 months.  He’s the one I know will drop everything when I need help.  He calls to check up on me every week and he lets me do all the talking once again.  I can honestly say, he’s more than a brother to me, he’s one of my best friends.  I’m very, very lucky to have him in my life.  Thanks Bro, and Happy Birthday.

Touchstones

My high school closed.  Not recently, it actually happened a few years back.  Aging building and declining population all contributed to it’s demise.  But I’m reaching one of those seminal years, not saying which one, where my former classmates and I gather to reminisce.  However my school is not only closed, a good part of it is demolished.  And a few years ago, my parents took over my room for their expanded bathroom and closet.  So when I go home for said reunion, the room where I spent my formative years is gone.  The door now leads to a linen closet.  The sanctuary that I retreated to, the place where I shut out my oh-so-annoying brothers and sisters, the door I slammed with all the angst ridden drama I could muster, is no more.  It’s now a sanctuary for sheets and towels.  I often tease my Mother when queried, that of course I am going to sleep in my room.

Then a few months back, my company was closed.  A firm that had existed for close to 50 years was shuttered.  Kaput.  I started getting concerned.  It’s as if a giant eraser was sweeping over the blackboard of my life, erasing any evidence that I had indeed been a part of these things.  In some ways, erasing my very existence.  See, I still have angst ridden drama in me.  Anywho, it’s unsettling to say the least.  If you chose to look at it that way.  Not so fast Mr. Eraser.  On an intellectual level, I get that change is inevitable and shouting at the wind isn’t going to alter that one bit.  And that change is very uncomfortable.  But within all the chaos, I have a choice to either be a victim of the change or a victor over the change.  It’s definitely easier to sit on my tukhus and whine but it’s going to be the same when I’m done with the drama.  The big giant eraser is going to continue to alter my future by changing the past.  I just need to keep changing my perspective.

I’ll be in my linen closet.