Sitting On My Ass, Eating Bonbons

Twenty years ago, give or take a week or two, I graduated from high school. I even went on to college for a decade, have one complete bachelors degree and a couple partial masters degrees. (ADD anyone?) In my class of under 200 people, I was easily in the top 10% academically. I was a skilled under- and over-achiever. I was on the honor roll and probation simultaneously. I had a 4.0 and a prescription for birth control pills by the time I was 15. I could make a bong out of a Coke can and represent the state of Nevada's Future Business Leaders of America in a single bound. (I'm no longer sure I'd consider those two skills conflicting...Mr. President?) As my 20-year reunion approaches, I've been actively locating former classmates on The Internet. I loves me some internet. If there's one thing I have developed in 20 years, it's an ability to find just about anything or anyone. If I want to. And, based on the persistent decline in my self esteem during this process, I may stop Wanting To. Because, it turns out, I really haven't done much in 20 years. By comparison, I'm living in a minivan, down by the river while the Others have been investing in historic commercial buildings in San Francisco, opening an ayurvedic spa in the City, and promoting green-living through celebrity-studded events and hanging with Mayor Newsom as half of San Francisco's "Cutest Couple of the Month"; writing articles for the Washington Post and penning a novel about Cuba; performing as the lead singer for Highway 101; or just doing the traditional doctor/lawyer thing.