10 Years Later. 5.26.04
In two weeks there will be a meeting for NahWeYone's Camp DeFambul (3-day camp for Sierra Leoneans and other members of the African diaspora. That just rolls off of my tongue now), getting our volunteers together and ramping up for the coming camp. There is also a fundraiser for the camp; and if you or any of your friends want to volunteer some money, attend the fundraiser (African foods and entertainments) let me know and I will hook you up with the charitable opportunity.
Also in two weeks is the high school reunion. Pompous kids will descend upon Manhattan and blather on about how they’re doctors and lawyers and how they started dot-coms (this article is covered by an ex-NY Times correspondent who also graduated with me) or how they wrote Avenue Q (okay, that guy is a year older) or how they’re in Iraq covering the war, front page, Washington Post or how they wrote a thriller starring Kip Pardue and Tara Reid.
Grrreat. I didn’t love those kids when I was in the hallways with them. Here’s my whiny moment. I wish I was from some buttf**k town in the middle of the US where people would be simply impressed by the fact that I made it to New York. I suppose this is yet another call to get off of my ass… that whole graduate school thing is just a front. I’m still aimless. And a hater.
Whiny moment’s over. I was going to enlist someone to be my illicit lover and date but now that Selvadurai’s gone I don’t know anyone fruity enough. There is always the “hire a hooker” idea, or the “hire a friend to be a hooker” idea. Anyone? Feel like being a hooker?
This reunion might actually be inspirational or something.
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