What's that cliche phrase?

"It's a small world, afterall"? I hate cliches. But in this case I'm going to have to use it.

I do think that it's only a small world for those able to explore it, actually. But that's a different topic for another day.

I've been coming to London for three years now, in the summers. It's funny how you can travel somewhere and have no idea there are people you know who live there. Sometimes you don't discover this until after you've left and you've posted all the photos on the facespace and your friend comments, "when were you in ____? I live there!"

Or sometimes you discover a friend lives in a city by happenstance.

Karen is moving to Singapore for a year for work, today actually - BEST OF LUCK KAREN! On my way to London I sent the usual bbm to Karen and Dewi: hey I'm on my way to London, let's get together sooner this year than last!

Karen responded: hey not sure if you know, I'm moving to Singapore for a year for work, you must come to my birthday/going away part July 2! Will send you the invite on facebook...

So I check out the invite, decide I am absolutely going even if it is in the middle of arrival weekend and I know I will have had no sleep - because this summer is going to be the summer where the program doesn't control my life, I'm taking back some of the control and I'm going to try to actually enjoy...and those of you who really know me know it's very easy for me to just stay stuck in the office "working" to make sure every little detail is perfect...

People I haven't seen in years and years (since 1998 or earlier to be exact, when we lived in Surabaya, Indonesia) have RSVPd that they are going to Karen's party. When I arrive it's just Karen and her boyfriend, James, and we start chatting it up - it's been a year since I've seen her so there's a lot to discuss.

Karen mentions the people who are coming, and the last minute message she got from "Daz" who said he would be there but hadn't responded on facebook.

I'm sorry, Daz? As in my 8th grade prom date?

Karen says, "yeah, he lives here, he's lived here for years, did you not know?"

Obviously not.

Let's back-track to my 13-year-old self in the 8th grade. Like every other 13 year old girl in the world, I was boy-crazy. And Daz had just move to Sby from Australia, he was the best swimmer on the swim team and I had the BIGGEST crush on him. Tall, dark, sarcastic and "mixed" Chinese/English, so you know he was adorable...He was in the 10th grade, and he asked me to go to prom with him. OMG, going to prom as an 8th grader? With a 10th grader no less. There were only a few who were invited. At least that's how I like to remember it. And my dad, Mr. Lamb himself, agreed that I could go.

YES WAY!

Let's just say when Daz walked in to the party I reverted back to that 13-year-old-awkward-self and was completely at a loss for words. All I could think about was the night he picked me up at our house by campus with his driver and how nervous I was. What if he tries to kiss me?!?!?!?

Roll your eyes, react however you want, but it shook me considerably that night at Karen's party because I was "prepared" to see whomever else had RSVPd, but was certainly not prepared to see this huge crush from my childhood...

Because I was unprepared to see this blast-from-the-past, I hadn't had time to walk down memory lane to remember ANYTHING from that point in my life (how often do you think back to when you were 13, really?) and since my memory is complete shite anyway, I was in this cloud of trying to act normal but also trying to piece together that period of history.

Of course Daz, the smart ass he is, remembered everything. But he also had the advantage of having just cleaned out some of his old things and had READ THROUGH every letter I had ever written him.

"I wrote you letters?" No, I didn't remember at that moment...

But of course I did...because I am the biggest cheese-ball ever. I still am.

After a while (a few days) the pieces of memory started coming back to me. I vaguely remember sprinting to the high school from the middle school between classes to throw a note at him, or at someone whom I knew he was going to be in class with. I remember that I folded them a special way. I have NO IDEA what I wrote in them, but Daz didn't hesitate to remind me that I would write somewhere on them, or sign them or something, with "a.d.i.d.a.s."

All.Day.I.Dream.About.Spencer.

Completely mortified.

No one expects to remember those kinds of details from their teenage past, do they? So I'm just dumbfounded, still, sitting in front of him, catching up with him and others from that past. Daz took the photo shown below. Everyone else has more history, because they stayed in Sby whereas I moved to Abu Dhabi for high school, and graduated there...

Anyway - it's just crazy how life works. Since that night I may or may not have seen Daz a few times :) Afterall, we hardly know each other now, after what, 12 years? We did go to an SIS mini-reunion at the Atkins residence outside of Oxford this past weekend, it was again a blast from the past and such good fun.