Saturn Returns

I used to be into astrology. REALLY into it. I still find it interesting, but I don't live my life by it. I will concede that Rob Brezny does kick ass. (Side note: I read my horoscope for the week of August 21st after writing this blog. I think this story qualifies.)

It's an entirely different kind of ass-kicking than that which many people go through around the ages of 28-30, however. Regardless of the fact of Saturn coming back into the very place in orbit in which it stood when one was born, the transition from the late 20s to 30 is a true foray into adulthood. Not that I have felt like a kid all these years; I just finally feel like I'm more on-track with my "self."

These thoughts come on the eve of my 10th high school reunion. It isn't until the end of November, but I've been seeing people on Facebook and Myspace lately that are faces from the past. Not just high school, but elementary school and junior high. I was in classes with many of the same people from the third grade (when I switched schools on account of my high-ish IQ) through the eighth grade. The elementary school years were miserable: at least in junior high we had the addition of new classmates from other schools in conjunction with a multi-class schedule to mix it up a bit.

In elementary school, though, I was stuck with the same kids every day. I don't think they realized how painful that time in my life was, and how significantly many (though mercifully not all) of them contributed to that. My parents were just finalizing a divorce when I got there. Divorces cost a lot of money, and we never had much to begin with, so I was the poor kid. My dad was smoking 3 packs a day to deal with it, so when I stayed with him, it smelled like I was, too. I even brought a rock to school for show and tell one day and it smelled like smoke. I had nerdy glasses. I was perpetually living in fear of encountering a friend from my past with whom I had had one of those strange sexual experiences, which took me over a decade to finally figure out (when I was about 17) that she was almost certainly sexually abused herself. Top it off with being surrounded by a class of about a 95% population of kids with rich parents, and a significant portion of these kids didn't see a whole lot wrong with looking down upon others. You can imagine how lovely it was received that I played with the other "outcast," the "fat" girl who wasn't really anything more than plump. I didn't see things the way the others did, but they sure knew how to look at people like us. So, of course, I constantly felt oppressed and depressed.

I wanted to belong, though. SO terribly that, in the sixth grade, another girl and I conspired and put a note into the aforementioned "fat" girl's desk telling her just what (horrible things) we thought of her and that we wished she would stay away from us. We were caught and reprimanded, of course, and I have never felt like a bigger, guiltier asshole in my whole life. I was 12. I apologized sincerely and profusely, of course: I wasn't a complete asshole. And we were able to salvage a friendship through junior high, though I often wonder about my part in her emotional scars she must have sustained. It is something I will not forget.

I mean, how deplorable is that? To want acceptance so badly that I would resort to cutting someone down like that, based on such superficial things? It was the same thing I was experiencing from others, that she was experiencing already, and that I so generously added to. I gained nothing other than a huge life lesson. People say, "Kids are mean." Yeah, because they don't know any better. And we can all guess whose fault that is. I don't know whether the people in my class who contributed to my terrible experience ever even realized that they had done so. I felt remorse for what I had done. Did they eventually feel remorse themselves for how they treated us? I don't have any misgivings that they are bad people at all, I just wonder if the thought has ever crossed their minds. That's the closure I feel is missing.

As I moved through junior high and into high school, and began to understand my black sheep nature, it was easier for me to embrace being an outcast. In fact, it stitched me quite a nice little place among the alt-rock-cool kids, and eventually, in high school, the theatre geeky and goth kids, niches I flourished in. Having a group of "different" people surrounding me allowed high school to be the most wonderful and positive of all my school experiences. It's quite the opposite for many people, so in spite of the fact that some people threw food at us during lunch or were just generally afraid and therefore abusive, I was finally happy. I belonged. A number of those people are still very dear friends to this day.

And in a few months, I will see many of the people I have not seen in a very long time, as well as the people I still keep in touch with. It just so happens that the high school to which a large number of people with whom I went to elementary school and junior high will also be having their reunion, just a few blocks down the way. I wonder if I should go. Maybe find some resolution, like my best friend Satine did. This blog was inspired by her blog, about the resolution she gained by attending the reunion for the high school where most of the people with whom she went to elementary school went. We had very similar experiences, you see, and I, too, have carried this weight around for years. It has helped me in many ways, though I never quite got closure with these people. I am still on the fence.

Isn't it amazing how things come around at this time in our lives? With all the craziness this year has brought me thus far, I am quite satisfied with my initial prediction that 2008 would be "a year of infinite possibilities."