Have you ever looked back at old yearbooks, when you were in grade 4 or something similar and looked at how little you were, then looked at the grade nines again and even though you're 26 years old, they still look bigger and older than you, though they're 14 or 15 in that picture? It's crazy, it happens to me all the time.

And now that I'm back in touch with someone that I had a major crush on when I was in grade 8 and he was in grade 12, I feel small and insignificant again.

In highschool terms, 12th grade is considerably older than 8th grade and the 12th graders don't usually give the 8th graders the time of day. Such is the case here, though there was no maliciousness in it, in any way, he was just a lot older and I was, more or less, a child.

Well, we're older now. He's balding, but still as good looking as he was. He's 30ish. I'm 27, though still chubby, a thousand times more attractive than I was as a preteen. Here is trying to look me up in his yearbook. I had to practically beg him not to, though I'm sure he still will.

This should be interesting, to say the least...

Click below and read my earlier entry from today - it's all about me me me!! Not like this diary is ever really about anyone else.