I haven’t seen my high school friend, Irene, since we graduated twenty years ago. She moved to Portland last year and this is the first time we’ve managed to get together. The experience was surreal and great. It was as if time had not passed, except of course that it had. A lifetime, really, so it was like time-traveling. I mean, the last time I saw her, we were both eighteen.

In my attempt to imagine what she would look like, I imagined that her mother would come to the door. Nope. Aside from a different haircut–which I didn’t expect–she looks pretty much the same as in high school. Mannerisms are unchanged. We did some catching up, and it was interesting to see where our lives diverged and where they stayed on the same path as we had set lo these twenty years ago.

The one moment of unexpected delight for me–you must understand that Irene was there with me during my Whovian days. We each had our Dr. Who characters. (She asked if I still had my scarf. I do.) So, being able to say “My story is coming out in the next Dr. Who anthology,” was tremendous fun because Irene knew exactly how cool that was for me.

It’s too bad we couldn’t get together sooner, but I’m awful glad we managed it today.