Which Reminds Me

Hmm....I almost thought that I heard the cackling of wicked witch Carmen buzzing around on her broomstick, still looking for a black cat story I suppose. Well, whatever. My high school diploma is stored safely away somewhere so there is nothing more that they can do to me now. High school is long since over. No more do I need to endure the withering disdain of wicked witch Carmen. She might have been the president of the yearbook committee then but nobody really cares now about that. The yearbook is in print and nothing can be changed from what was done for whatever reasons known only to them, which were not shared with us, how it was that the newspaper staff got short shrift in the yearbook. Whatever of typos and oversights committed under Carmen's supervision are just there for perpetuity to be gazed by generations of researchers to contemplate, who imagine that the yearbook alone comprises everything that can be said about high school, even though we each know that our own individual stories are not really there. Our lives did not start in high school and did not end there. Life goes on and high school and this vapid Carmen/Kathy are just eating dust in the rear view mirror now.