Old friends. They finish your sentences, they remember the cat that ran away when you were twelve, and they tell you the truth when you’ve had a bad haircut. But mostly, they are always there for you—whether it’s in person or via late night phone calls—through good times and bad. But as the years pass, it becomes increasingly difficult to see each other, to make new memories. Fortunately, my high school girlfriends and I vowed long ago not to let this happen. We vowedto have reunions.

　　老朋友。他们会接完你没说完的句子，他们记得在你十二岁时跑掉的那只猫，如果你剪了一个很糟糕的发型，他们会跟你说实话。但主要的是，不论是在美好抑或糟糕的日子里，他们总会在你身边——或是面对面交流，或是深夜与你通电话。但是随着年月流逝，彼此越来越难见到对方，也越来越难制造新的回忆了。幸运的是，很早以前，我与我的一帮高中女友们曾立下誓言不让这样的事发生。我们许诺一定要重聚。

　　A few months ago, we met up for a three-day weekend in the American Southwest. We grew up together in Maine and have said for years that we should have an annual event, yet it’s often postponed or canceled due to schedule conflicts. Not this year.

　　几个月前的一个周末，我们在美国西南部聚了三天。我们一起在缅因州长大，这几年来一直都在说我们应该有个一年一度的聚会，但通常都因为日程计划冲突而延迟或取消。今年终于如愿了。

　　Four of us-two from San Francisco, one from Boston, and one from Seattle-boarded planes bound for Santa Fe, New Mexico, where one of the ganglives and works for an art gallery. Two years ago, she moved there-escaped, rather-from the film industry in New York City, where she led a life that felt too fast, too unfulfilling. The artist in her longed for vibrant landscapes and starry moonlit skies. She wanted to drive a truck on dusty roads, a trusty dog at her side, riding shotgun. She got all that and found love, too. She is happy.

　　我们一行四人——两个来自旧金山，一个来自波士顿，还有一个来自西雅图——登上了飞往新墨西哥州圣菲的航班。我们这帮人中有一个住在圣菲，为那里的一家画廊工作。两年前，她搬到那里——更准确地说是从纽约的电影业中——逃离出来。她当时觉得在纽约生活节奏太快，太没有成就感。她那艺术家的本性向往生机盎然的自然景致和繁星点缀的月夜。她希望能在尘土飞扬的路上开着卡车，有只忠诚的狗坐在前排的乘客座位，陪伴她左右。这一切都实现了，她还找到了爱情。她是幸福快乐的。