My intention was to drive myself to the coast. I even took a driving lesson with Tessa's boyfriend, Andy, who is a former valet. He was very valiant and only grabbed the "oh sh-t handle" one time. (He was also patient with me when we had to drive back to Whole Foods, where I left my house keys in the dried-mango bin because I was so stressed out) But, the road from Portland to Newport looks like a scene from a car commercial: "this is a professional driver on a closed course". So, my sister drove me.
Between being dropped off in the driveway and the nervousness, I didn't just feel like I was seeing friends from High School ... I felt like I was in High School. All those old teenage fears came flooding back. Will they like me? What will we talk about?
After we came in from the beach, I looked at our shoes lined up on the back porch : cowboy boots, wellies, bright pink rainboots, and flipflops. We are - and always have been - so different from each other.
The eight of us had been together since kindergarten. We were joined by neighborhoods and first grade classes. Highschool was the last time that I didn't choose my friends. Being grown up is different - the "party friends", then the "work friends", the "share-the-same-hobby friends" and "boyfriend's friends". These are the real things that tie us now.
Things change. Yes, lifestyles and jobs, interests and partners change. But, history doesn't. There's a wonderful permanence in the people from your past.
(photos) on film, pentax k1000