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June 19, 2017
I've identified the conflict around my 20-year high school reunion: I don't want to go, but I want to be there.

That is, if you offered to let me attend anonymously as one of those teleconferencing robots, I would do it in a heartbeat, and if someone said "who's controlling that robot, there?" I would make the robot say "Beep-boop, I am just here to serve drinks," and then I would roll over to a different group of people I spent four good years growing up with.

But to actually go there, you know, as myself? No thanks.