Like A Slow-Moving High School Reunion

Oh, Facebook.

I don't think my high school's graduating class even had a 10-year reunion. Or 15, which would have been this year. Looking ahead, I can't think of a reason to bother with the 20-year, since by then everyone will have joined Facebook and we'll all be caught up.

I'm not even kidding.

If somehow you are missing this online high-school reunion phenomenon in your own life, let me explain how it works. Through the magic that is Social Media, your lost connections can be sewn together again, piece by piece, in five easy (and sometimes mindblowing) steps.


Step One: Your Past Shows Up In Your Email

You receive an email with the following words: "John Smith" has added you as a friend on Facebook. We need to confirm that you know John in order for you to be friends on Facebook.

And you think...John Smith? Which John Smith? Certainly not THE John Smith who used to snap my bra strap in line for the cafeteria in the 8th grade? And who went out with my best friend but dumped her that summer when we were 15? And who got drunk on wine coolers and made out with me that summer between freshman and sophomore year of college at that party that time when I realized I'd always had a bit of a thing for him and then never saw him again anyway? Surely not. Surely it's a different John Smith, like, from some sort of work thing.

Step Two: Confirmation

You log in to Facebook and click on the link and there he is. John Smith. Not from work. From middle school. And high school. And that time you made out. And now's he's staring back at you from your computer screen, looking older and fuller with slightly more heft and slightly less hair, wearing a college sweatshirt with what could be his alma mater or not, you don't remember, smiling and holding a baby with one arm while a toddler clings to his other. He looks, for all intents and purposes, great.

A weird sense of something you can't quite place makes your stomach clench. You click and confirm that John Smith is indeed your "friend."


Step Three: Snooping

Now that you have been granted "friend" status, you begin the snooping process. John is married and living in the same town he -- make that you and he -- grew up in. He has two kids. He has 4 photo albums, and from these you ascertain more than you could have suspected Facebook would tell you. You know what his wife looks like (you don't know her; maybe he met her in college?). You know what his kids look like and how old they are and their names. You know that he has a cute house and silly dog and vacationed last spring in Mexico.

And then you go a step further and you see who John Smith's friends are, and whoa. Turns out, John's still hanging out with the same group from high school. Then you realize why those faces in those photos looked familiar.

(You also maybe see the name and face of the one who broke your heart so many years ago you were supposed to be too young to have a heart to break. You never even thought to look for him on Facebook, because what would you say? But there he is, too. You'll have to figure out what to do about him later.)


Step Four: The Re-Introduction Email

One of three things happen once you have made contact.

1) Nothing. You are now friends and that's all there is to it. No need for further discussion.
2) He writes you.
3) You write him.

Assuming you find yourself in position 2 or 3, the email itself is practically a template. I envision that there are millions of these emails flying through Facebook's pages every day.

**********************************************************

Hi Random Person From Grade School,

So funny to see you here. It's been such a long time! I can't believe we've gotten so old...

I see you're Some Kind of Marital Status. I have to say, it took me by surprise. I never thought you'd ever settle down / I always thought you'd be married by now. But I guess it's not fair to base my assessments on your middle-school dating tendencies. Haha!

Your pictures are great. Do you enjoy living Where You Live? What are you doing for work?

I see you're still friends with That Guy. I hope he's well. Please tell him I say hello next time you see him.

So fill me in...what all have you been up to?

-Kristy

**********************************************************

And then you get a fill-in-the-blank response, plus tons questions about YOUR life. So you answer. You find yourself trying to encapsulate everything you are and have become since high school.

You're a bit shocked that it only takes three paragraphs.


Step Five: And Then?

Once you've gotten through the initial snooping, casual how-are-you emails, you're stuck. It's not like you're suddenly going to be friends with this person you don't really know but whose name you doodled on your notebook once, for a week, about a million years ago.

It's NICE to know what he's up to. It's even nicer to be able to have a civil conversation that doesn't involve bra-strapping or spitballs.

But then what?

You start noticing his Facebook status updates, and they aren't really very interesting. He's dropping the kids off at their grandma's, and that doesn't really mean anything to you or your life or your own day.

And then he publishes something about how he voted for McCain. He changes his profile image to a "No You Can't" picture. You see he has recently joined a fangroup of Sarah Palin and also Metallica. His favorite movie is listed as "Wedding Crashers."

All of which is cringe-worthy and somehow really quite wonderful.

Because this was a gift.

You didn't have to lose that 15 (or you know, 50, whatever) pounds to go to your reunion. You didn't have to show up with your stories and pictures of your kids. You didn't have to worry about your outfit, or if your lipstick was on, or if you were good enough.

This exchange, while totally online and in many ways constructed, was way more natural and honest than some put-on party with nametags. Here we are, here is our life. Here is a genuine snapshot of who I am and who I know and what I do and where I'm headed this afternoon.

I am reminded of why I knew John and why I liked him. I am also reminded of why we fell out of touch: we never really had anything in common except a shared experience that was forced upon us. When that stopped being true and we went off on our own, we stopped sharing an experience and we stopped being friends.

But here we are, again, part of the same experience, again. Sure, it's online and distant, but it's still true and it's still something we share -- and this time, voluntarily. He from his side of the world and me from mine.

I don't think there's any easy way to explain why this is so compelling. It just feels like some of my life's loose ends are being tied up.

My life isn't really impacted in any way by knowing that last saturday, John's little girl's soccer team won.

Except somehow it is.