CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE: E-MAIL BECKONS THE UNWARY SOUL TOWARD NOSTALGIA

Cyberspace is no place for a sentimental journey.

When checking my e-mail the other day, I found a note bearing a name I didn't recognize.

The author knew me. It was one of those, "Hi, howya been/wasn't high school a long time ago/why aren't you married yet" notes that I'm tempted to just delete.

The author -- we'll call him Sam, since that's his name -- happened to meet up with my older sister, who gave him my e-mail address.

I didn't remember this person and e-mailed my sister for clarification. She e-mailed me back that I'd gone to high school with Sam.

I have tried very hard to completely block out my teen-age years. There was nothing traumatic about them, they just bore the general awfulness that adolescence does.

Since my sister taught at the high school I attended, it's difficult to escape those years completely. I think she remembers my high school career better than I do.

That is not a fact I find comforting.

At any rate, prompted by my sister, I remembered Sam, a short, sandy-haired kid who wrote the movie reviews for our high school newspaper and who sat at the same lunch table with me and a gaggle of other nerdy newspaper types: the editor, me, the designer and a few other writers.

The editor, Dave, had cystic fibrosis and died a few years after he finished high school.

The designer went on to study at the Chicago Art Institute and now owns her own graphic design business. I don't know what happened to the other writers, although Sam did mention he didn't wind up in journalism.

At least one of us escaped.

I think nerdhood in high school is a key requirement for a successful career in journalism. It teaches you to observe, since no one ever really wanted you to participate.

It's sort of revenge for being the last kid picked for the basketball team.

I haven't changed much since high school, although I do type better, weigh more and have better hair.

And believe it or not, I'm less cynical. I also smile now when I get my picture taken.

Must be early senility.

I love the Internet. It brings a whole world of information and pseudo-facts right to my keyboard.

But e-mail is a whole 'nother ballgame, and I haven't figured out the rules.

I haven't written Sam back yet, because I'm not quite sure what to say.

I don't object to renewing old friendships, but cyberspace is no place for a sentimental journey. It is very much geared toward the here and now, or the coming soon to a PC near you.

There's something very anonymous about e-mail. I don't mind it for quick notes between friends, but I prefer the telephone, or better yet, actual face-to-face communication.

I guess I'm just an old-fashioned girl.

Peggy O'Farrell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.