Tag Archive: memories

A lasting impression

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Fri. October 9, 2009

The other day, instead of going by my usual route to the station I walked with a colleague over to the surplus store where he bought a couple of locks. From there we just walked up one of the main roads discussing various work issues. At one point I took a detour to visit a public washroom–the one that has made an appearance before in this blog. I’m mentioning all of this to make a point that I went a good distance out of my way to get to where I was.

Anyway, we left the building and were on our way to the station. The streets were filled with people heading home after a long day at work. Most were preoccupied with their smart phones, or searching down the way for the next streetcar. We too were busy immersed in our own conversation. As we were walking, tens of metres away we spotted this woman waving in our general direction. At first I figured it was for someone behind us. As we got closer, I changed my mind and figured it was for my colleague. After a few more steps, I realized that it was for me. What the heck? It took me a few moments before I realized who it was. The woman is a friend of a friend. I had dinner with her maybe 5 years ago while we were still in university. Really, I hadn’t seen her since then or had any real contact. So, really, it surprised me that she’d remember me and was able to pick me out from a crowd. Also, I’d like to think that 5 years on I’d look a little bit different as well. Great, no? I can’t really feel too great about the situation though. The bad thing on my part is that I don’t think I would have been able to recognize her if I saw her walking through the crowd. Sure, when she stopped me I was able to pick up on where I’d met her before, but without the cue I think I would have just walked on. I feel bad!

So, these events are making me reflect on a couple of things. Isn’t it amazing how much of an impression we sometimes make on others without actively trying? I remember her being friendly and kind; I wonder how I’m defined in her mind. Obviously it’s a strong enough image to be able to survive all this time. Was it something I did? Was it something I said? We cross paths with people that we’re not necessarily close to but acquainted with all the time. Each meeting leaves a mark. Often the mark fades away, but sometimes an impression is so strong that it can stand the test of time. That’s one reason it’s often stressed just how important first impressions are.

Anyway, we parted ways. She continued on to the art gallery where she was meeting some friends. I continued on to the station to head back home.

I regret that I didn’t ask for her number.

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Fog of not-caring

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Sat. September 12, 2009

I was looking at a couple of entries that I wrote a while ago. It’s interesting how I’m easily able to relive some of the emotions I was feeling back then just by rereading a few words. I’ve done this exercise many times before, and I’ve noticed that there does seem to be a limitation of sorts in terms of how long it is before the associated emotions no longer feel as raw. After a certain point, I’m more able to look at a past event more objectively. In general, for me that limit is about five years. Anything beyond that almost seems covered by some sort of protective fog of not-caring. It’s not that I’ve forgotten how I felt at the time, but rather it’s that the memories likely aren’t relevant to the here and now.

Frankly, I’m kind of waiting for my whole university experience to pass that five year window. Meh.

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The journey through the wilderness

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Fri. December 12, 2008

It’s often difficult seeing friends going through similar difficulties that I’ve gone through in terms of finding employment after graduation, and generally establishing a base for life in the adult world. After years upon years of being sheltered by academic life, being thrust into this new realm is tough. I can see a lot of the same raw emotions in my friends that I remember having to deal with:

  • The exhilaration of being free and on the brink of something exciting
  • Apathy mixed with fear with regards to finding a job
  • Feeling the sudden panic with the realization that finding a job is necessary
  • General sentiments of inadequacy when the job hunt is more difficult than expected
  • Worrying when employment doesn’t match what’s considered the “dream job”

All of these emotions are especially powerful at this time because there’s a relative lack of mental stimulation to keep the mind preoccupied. It’s tough to deal with, but at this point I believe that these steps are necessary in order to gain a greater appreciation for the transition as a whole. I mean, this is one of those gateway periods, you know? You step over the threshold and suddenly you’re forever changed.

I’m not saying that I now have my life all figured out, after all, it hasn’t been that long since my own graduation. I can safely say though that after all of this my perspective has widened. Through university it was easy to have narrowed vision; all you needed to do was look as far enough as the next exam or project. As clichéd as it sounds, there are so many opportunities now available.

So when I see my friends going through these testing times, all I can do is remain encouraging with the hopes that they too will find bits of wisdom from this journey through the wilderness.

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The gifted class

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Tue. August 19, 2008

The other day, I read something on Julius’s blog that caused me to thing back to my time in the gifted class in elementary school. Back in grade 5, I was made to take an IQ test of sorts. I actually remember thinking about how fun the darn thing was. It was all like a small game show in my mind. Anyway, I think my teacher noticed that I was advanced and getting a little bit bored with the material, so she recommended that I get tested. My parents, God bless them, had no clue about all of this gifted business, so just consented. Hey, whatever works, right? When the results came in, it was recommended that I be transferred, so that was that.

When I joined in grade 6, I was joining a class that had already had one grade to bond together. You see, the gifted programme started in grade 5. So I have to admit that I didn’t really feel like I could mesh with everyone at the time. Hell, I was already socially awkward–almost used to being an outcast and ostracized from my time previous years for the greivous sin of knowing too much–so, I figured it was just par for the course. Thing is, despite not being entirely able to mesh, this was the first time that I was in a group where I felt like I belonged. How can I describe that? It’s more like, it was the first time I understood that no, being smart wasn’t something that should be stifled or hidden for the sake of fitting in. Being in that class, among similar people gave me free license to let me mind expand, to which I’m entirely thankful.

As you could imagine, a class like that sort of generates a bit of a clan mentality. See the school didn’t consist of purely gifted classes. There was also the “regular” class. God, I hate that term because it makes me sound so bloody elitist. Anyway, just due to the nature of the split, there was a definite rift between us and our counterparts. It wasn’t uncommon for them to taunt us and call us “brainers” as a derogatory. I don’t ever recall us fighting back. I mean, it’s not like we did anything to intentionally put us above the other class. We just put up with it. Early on, we were in our own silos, not really interacting with the other half. Within our classes we relied on each other as a survival mechanism.

That all sounds well and good, doesn’t it? As is the nature of things though, things weren’t so clear cut. Within our class, there were outcasts among the outcasts. I consider myself fortunate. I think I was more one of those floater types; I didn’t really belong to any group and was really on the periphery of a lot of things. I felt like I was just “there” and didn’t get much attention. For my personality especially, I think I was fine with that. I think I had too many eccentricities and quirks for that to work. You know, I might even consider myself borderline outcast, but really that was self-imposed. Anyway, as an observer, looking back now I almost feel sorry for some of the people that got the brunt of the taunting. That’s not to say some of it was undeserved, but God, I pray that some of them have gotten so much stronger from having survived all of that. I know some of them have and have gone on to bigger and better things.

Through the wisdom of the teachers, we eventually did start sharing certain subjects with the other class. See, both sides had the same curriculum, but maybe we had a little bit more enrichment. Does that make sense? Anyway, over time, due to all that integration it seemed like a lot of the sniping died down. By grade 8, I could swear that it wasn’t so much an us vs. them thing anymore. We were just the other class. Sure, still “brainers” but whatever.

A lot of this just sits in my memories as a time when I was just coming into my own, trying to build a sense of self. I am thankful for this period as a time when I realized that I’m not so broken. It wouldn’t be until late high school that I’d start feeling that way again, but…that’s another story.

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Holler

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Wed. April 11, 2007

I left the office to pick up a quick lunch. As I crossed the street, there was this woman going the other way who seemed to be adjusting her long scarf. She seemed to lose control of it and the wind carried it in front of my path. I ignored it and maintained my tunnel vision as I crossed the street. As I passed her, she seemed to say “hey!” I was kind of surprised, but kept on going. She yelled again, “hey!” I looked over my shoulder to look at her. It was a beautiful tall red-haired woman in a long coat with a silk scarf. I scanned my memory trying to see if I knew her in any capacity. I couldn’t come up with anything. She continued to yell out “hey!” I continued to look at her with a bit of a confused look. I think she was sort of waving to get my attention. Hell, I don’t know. I’m still wondering who the heck that was.

So, OK, that leaves me with a few thoughts. Maybe she was calling for someone behind me. Though, I think I was the only one walking the direction that I was. Is she someone from university or possibly high school? I can’t think of anyone that fits the profile. Besides, it’s not like she was calling my name. She wasn’t “hollering” at me. AS IF. Things like that don’t happen to me. Hahah. Was she just angry that I walked into her scarf or something? No clue.

To tell you the truth, it’s kind of funny to think of what might have happened if I did ascertain why she was yelling at me.

Guess I’ll never know.

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Time compression

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Tue. April 10, 2007

I’ve been passing the link to my gallery around to some people on my MSN list. So far, feedback has been positive. I’m not sure why I felt like mentioning that…come to think of it, why would reaction be negative, you know? Anyway, some of the people I passed the link on to were people that I hadn’t been in contact with in the past year or two. When they saw the some of the photos, their immediate reaction was something to the effect that the events shown happened so very long ago. “Memories!” exclaimed one.

You know, I’ll be honest and say that the thought hasn’t really crossed my mind. I mean, it doesn’t feel like that long ago. It’s not so much that I feel like these things happened just yesterday. No. How can I describe it? It’s like…past events are static polaroids in my mind, not necessarily gaining dust, but quite frozen. It’s not that the events are ever that far off, but like I’m carrying a box of those polaroids with me as I age. Maybe it has something to do with some sort of mental time compression. Hell if I know. However, if I sit back and think about it, some of these events really are old.

Consider 2004. By now, that’s 3 years ago–which is very much an eternity. What was I doing back then? I was planning orientation week, which itself doesn’t seem like that long ago. I was also studying third year courses. Maybe the fact that I was only 22 back in April 04 will drive it home for me.

Holy crap! Yeah, that was a while ago.

I started university in 2000. Seven(!) years ago. I was so young. That really does seem like a long time ago. So much has happened. Perhaps though, that’s one factor that makes time compression happen. When there’s so much going on that relates to stress, strife, struggle, and adjustment, maybe that time period just feels slow because it holds so much weight in the mind. In the end, these years are now filed away and dealt with. I don’t need to hold onto the whole when a few mental stills of that time are all I need. Contrast that to more recent years. 2005 and 2006 seem to be a big blur for me. There’s no disrespect meant to anyone I knew during those two years. It’s just that that period was far less stressful and more enjoyable, making time fly. There are more mental snapshots of these recent times, you know? Part of it is that this time is the most recent (of course), but more importantly, there’s more to hold onto.

Anyway, back to what I was saying before, these things just never seem that far off to me. I’m not clinging onto these things tightly, wishing to revisit and relive these times, but certainly some things can be gained from learning lessons related to these past events, know what I mean?

I’m carrying my box of polaroids while looking towards the future.

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Familiar sights and sounds at the EX

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Sun. August 27, 2006

With the world transforming at a high rate of change, it’s kind of comforting to know that some things are pretty constant–or at least slow to evolve. The Canadian National Exhibition is one such institution. I went there the other day with my mother, and I was pretty awed at how the things that I saw brought back memories of times when I visited in the early 90′s. The sights, the smells: they were all very familiar, and to be honest, it was comforting. I haven’t been all that interested in going over the past few years, for whatever reason. In the past, every time we went we really only just walked around and browsed the shopping pavilions, which were basically the only places my family was interested in. So, I came to associate the place with long, boring hours of wandering around. I dunno. Now that I’m older, I guess I’m able to appreciate some of these same things a little bit more. Also, I can actually show my mother some of the other things that she missed out on in the past. All in all, I’m enjoying the place more now than I did back then.

Now, if only I actually had money to spend at the fair.
(Maybe next year)

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