I used to brag that I was a great stalker

Now in planning a reunion, my skills at Internet scouring aren’t up to par. In finding a list of over 100 names, I have landed in many dead ends. I am angry at parents who don’t give kids unique names—as I try to determine for the fourth time is that really the David Chang or the Mike Lee I am looking for. Then I get irritated that some people refuse to join social networks and lead a non-internet life.

And yet, although I barely know the majority of these people, I suddenly feel closer to them by reading their Facebook profiles, their Linkedin profiles, their websites, their trails they left online. Before, they probably thought I was quiet, silent…and almost non-existent. That’s the way I wanted to be.

Nobody has asked me why I wanted to be part of the planning committee. Especially since this place never had the greatest memories for me when I worked there. Beyond thinking fondly as my first real job, I don’t regret not partaking in the parties, the movie nights, the hanging out at the office.

I guess in some way, I just want to show everyone that I am different now.

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