Could it be?

Perhaps Donnie Wahlberg wasn't lying after all.

It seems that the unthinkable may be happening.

New Kids on the Block might just be getting back together.

The ledes on the news stories I've seen have all been sort of lame. Things like: "They won't be new and they're certainly not kids anymore ... (ha, ha, ha), but New Kids on the Block might just be getting back on the block."

Oh. My. God.

At first, I thought it was a terrible idea.

But then I went here.

And now I'm completely sold.

Bring them back.

Bring them back now.

Small world

About six or seven months ago, a new baby started at Rye's daycare.

She is known in our household as Baby Leona.

The other day Rye told me how Baby Leona had pooped out of her diaper and onto the carpet. He thought that was funny.

I had never met Baby Leona or her mom because Baby Leona gets dropped off nearly two hours before Rye does and she gets picked up almost two hours earlier, too. Her mom, I was told, is a teacher.

So tonight I was early picking Rye up and Baby Leona's mom was late.

I was happy I would finally get to say hello and at least have a face for every fellow daycare parent.

I walked in, said hi and wiped my shoes on the mat. Then I looked up, walked a few feet to where they were to get Rye and stuck out my hand to Baby Leona's mom.

"Hi, I'm Veronica," I said.

"I know," she said. "We went to high school together."

I stared hard at this woman.

Yes, we did go to high school together. And jr. high. We were in many honors classes together. She dated my friend for a while. I had even thought of this girl a few weeks ago when someone else I knew had an emergency appendectomy. She is the only other person I can remember knowing who had to have an emergency appendectomy.

We weren't close friends, but it was still nice to see a face from the past, especially one that recognized me right away.

To make this whole daycare "family" thing a bit stranger, another one of my high school friends uses our provider's sister for her daycare.

Since we can't really go back to Grand Junction, and Omaha so often feels so big, I'm happy to have moments like this, in an otherwise anonymous place.

The letter might go something like this

Dear fellow graduates of the class of 1998,

In the 10 years since we've graduated high school, I've really thought of you very little.

With a few exceptions, of course.

Still, for some reason, I really want there to be a 10-year reunion. It should be this spring.

Last week, I thought about it and decided I wasn't sure if I would go.

This week, one of you sent me a MySpace message asking if I'd heard anything about it.

I hadn't. So I called a woman involved with the Fremont High Alumni Association to find out who was planning it and when it would be.

She said she had no contact for the class of 1998.

That means none of you have stepped forward yet to plan it.

I'm not surprised.

And none of you would be surprised to hear that I felt compelled to think about organizing it. I guess I still can't help it.

I asked more questions: Was she sure nobody was planning it? Is it possible for someone to be planning it without notifying the alumni association? How do you go about getting a list of addresses?

I contemplated getting the list (it costs $20 and would not have married last names or current addresses). But then I thought why exactly I would do such a thing.

I haven't thought about many of you since high school. I certainly haven't thought about many of you since my last summer at Ronin Pool when I got married and moved away.

I've got an awesome family now, a good job. I run races now and sometimes do well. I'm much more confident now. I care not nearly as much what you former popular people think.

I wish there was a way to get just the people I am curious about together. Can't we have a cross country reunion? A track team reunion? A journalism staff get-together? A student government or drama or German club reunion? A you-were-once-my-friends-and-I-miss-you reunion? That would be nice.

Well, in the end, I decided not to spend my time tracking down lost addresses and lost people, despite my curiosity as to how some of you turned out.

I do hope everyone's doing well.

And maybe there's still a chance someone else will pull something together.

And maybe I will go.

The shoes

They're not great pictures, but they're all I have. Dane took them as I was opening them and then immediately trying them on. They're cool. One shoe says "SPEED." The other says "DISTANCE" (I really wanted "ENDURANCE" but it was one letter too long).

RIP holiday season

Farewell Christmas and New Year's and all the fa la la la la that came with them.

Don't get me wrong. This was one of the best Christmases I've had in a long time. The shoes (pics are coming, Bryan). The other running gear. The gift cards and other nice gifts. The days off work. The family that each year seems to matter a little more. The unrushed time we all spent together.

But the hustle and bustle of the season I'm done with. I'm ready to take down the tree, pack up the ornaments and find a place to put the sea of toys we now own. I have that urge again to simplify, get rid of the old and seldom used or worn things that fill our closets and toy chests, to make room for the new. I'll attempt that this weekend.

Today, I hung out with my best friend for six hours. We exchanged gifts, watched the Wizard of Oz, played with Rye, checked out vintage Husker T-shirts at Scheel's and then ate out (we let the boys come along). It was the first time I'd seen her since she moved to Connecticut almost a year ago. She looked exactly the same. Together, we were exactly the same. And I'm struck again by how lucky I am to have such a long-time friend, one I don't have to explain anything to -- because she gets me that well.

It's more than nice.

Happy New Year -- and on with the post-holiday routine. Maybe we can carry some of the holiday spirit with us.