Contacting old friends

"Thinking about music, I dug out an old tape, dusted off my Walkman, and started listening to the mix tape that changed my life. Well, the person who did."

I wrote that in August, and periodically I think about it again, because the mix tape was just that good.

So while I consider recreating that worn-out tape on a CD, I also consider contacting that friend again. It's been nearly five years since we've last seen each other.

Since reconnecting powerfully and positively with old friends from high school, I am in more the mood to contact her, but I still have reservations.

In the past, it would have been insecurity. Particularly with this girl, whom I adored to a fawnish and embarrassing degree, and I would have wondered why she would want to hear from me. But now I think, "if she really did like me back then, surely she would enjoy me now." I mean, I am so much more a fully formed person and am WAY more interesting.

But now, the thing that gives me pause is the length to which I'd have to go to be in touch. I no longer have her e-mail address. After Googling her, I discovered what is probably her married name on a language translation Web site. I'd have to e-mail the owner of the page and ask her to pass along my contact information to my old friend. What I don't know now is if such an effort would be met with excitement or trepidation.

I would be really excited if an old friend tracked me down online, because it would be quite a task. Out of seven pages of Googled results, and every single one of them me, there is nothing personal there. And most of them point to my old job, on whose Web site at least my work e-mail was published. If someone unsavory sifted through all that and was able to contact me, I'd probably freak out. On the other hand, e-mail? So easy to just delete and ignore.

It's been so long, I wonder if it's worth bothering. But if she's still in Chicago, I'd love to see her again when I move back.