I must admit, I'm somewhat of a stalker. No, not in a creepy, weirdo way, but when I get bored, I Google my old friends, sometimes myself, to see what I can find. A week or so ago, I tried to find my old friends, April and Sam.
April was my first friend that I made when I moved to what is considered home now. She was a year younger and my neighbor. Just as she was starting high school, her mom was getting remarried and moving to Michigan. When I searched for April, I found out that she was valedictorian of her high school and found out where she went to college. I knew she was doing well. I thought about e-mailing her, but I wasn't sure if she would actually remember me. When I tried searching for Sam, I couldn't find anything. Sam was my first best friend after I moved. We were inseparable in 8th grade until about my sophomore year of high school. People change, and when we change, we sometimes lose touch with people we once considered friends. After Sam and I graduated high school, I never heard from her again. To my surprise, I got an e-mail from April on Monday. I was completely ecstatic to hear from her. We've been e-mailing back and forth since then. She wants to come back to Maryland to begin her career after college, and we're planning on getting together when she does. Last week, out of nowhere, Sam instant messaged me while I was working late. She, too, is doing well, and still lives in Maryland. Her family is doing well; her sister is having a baby. We're all growing up. April and Sam were very important people in my life that I lost touch with. They were my first new friends, and they never really cared that I was the new unpopular girl. April and I tried to start a babysitting business, very unsuccessfully. We would play Monopoly for hours, and when we didn't feel like playing anymore, we would pack up the game in plastic baggies and resume play the next day. I would walk to Sam's house every day the summer before high school started. I don't even know what we did, but it kept us busy and out of trouble. We meet similar people in drum corps -- those that are an important part of our experience, but we somehow lose touch with them. Brooklynne was a member of the Bluecoats color guard in 2000, my rookie year. She was a rook-out who marched with the Americanos the year prior. Brooklynne and I were not best friends on tour, but I don't think I will ever misplace those I marched with. Every summer includes many memories that I share with each color guard member. That insures that I will never forget them. Brooklynne e-mailed me recently to say hi, asked if I remembered her, and wanted to say that she's been reading my columns. She's working in Iraq for the U.S. government. I immediately responded. Of course I remembered her. How can I forget people that I formed ever lasting memories with? It's impossible. I may not remember every horn line member's name -- in fact, I don't think I ever learned every corps member's name. I know that's horrible, but at least I try to never forget a face. No matter how long we're apart, I know that those I marched with will always be remembered. I'll always want to hear from them and play catch up. I'm sure that it's the other way around to. Have you ever wondered where your seat partner from 1986 is? Try finding them. Once you do, I can assure you memories will start to come back. Becky Novac currently lives in Hoboken, N.J., and works for Universal McCann in New York City as an assistant media planner. She is 22 years old and a recent graduate from Penn State University where she majored in journalism and psychology. Becky marched with the Bluecoats in 2000, 2002 and 2004 as a member of the color guard. Past columns by Becky Novac: The Biggest group project My Aria interview Life outside the bubble A day filled with intangible rewards Traditions make drum corps complete The Art in what we do Hockey, alumni and Valentine's Day Dates Everyone needs goals Adapting Turning pro Wondering about the "kids" Resolutions It's the little things A Rock star Remembering the passion Banquet weekend Missing out Unknown suitcase adventures The Even years