Nostalgia

You know how, when you were 16 years old, you had a blog? Don't lie, because you did. Everyone did, at that age. And we all thought we were soooo super cool, and that we totally had things to say that the whole world needed to know about.

If you have a blog now, and are feeling insulted, bear with me. I think I am going somewhere with this.

My point (and I do have one) is that rereading old blog entries, whether you wrote them or your BFF of the time did is an embarrassing and enlightening experience. I started reading my old xanga account tonight, and it was pretty painful. But it was also kinda fun. I can still look at all of those entries, and know exactly what was going on at the time - most of them had to do with a certain guy who is, thank goodness, out of my life now. But they also had to do with my friends of the time, my enemies of the time, my hopes and dreams and insecurities and little egoisms. I remember who was really important to me back in high school, and I smile over all the things we did. It's the kind of read that makes you go to your MSN list and re-add certain people, or go on a Facebook stalk of different people than usual. I had some really great adventures with people I don't even talk to anymore, and while some of these people have been nixed for good reason, there are others that I genuinely miss. I should look some of them up, maybe.

But what is really great about the old blog entries, and a reason that I don't think I will ever purge myself of all those old musings, is that it's such a great snapshot of me at a certain age. I like to think I've improved. I like to think that I handle things better now, with more tact and more grace. There were a lot of facepalm moments, as I read my thoughts and the comments of others (again, usually associated with that same guy), and I like to believe that when I re-read this blog a few years from now, there won't be quite as many. It's tangible proof that I am moving forward, instead of backward. And that is a really nice thing to know!

In other news, I am a muddle and a stew of mixed feelings right now. In less than a week I will be leaving the Familial Home in Turner Valley and journeying back to Toronto, to start a new year of school in a new apartment and (hopefully) with a new job. Things are a changin' and they're doin' it mighty quick like. And on the one hand, I am SO EXCITED. I am so thrilled to be going back to somewhere that challenges me daily, to somewhere that gives me legitimate reasons to stay up until 2:30. And there are Ikea trips to look forward to, an apartment to decorate, and a boy to cuddle up to who I have definitely missed this past week.

But on the OTHER hand, I am leaving the familial home for another year, and possibly longer, now that I have a lease to take care of. And that kinda sucks. It feels, in a weird way, that this is me really moving out. Even though it's technically my third time doing it. But the first apartment was only for about six months, and in res I was homeless except for out here during all the major holidays. This somehow feels much more grown up. Maybe it's the fact that I'm really really moving in with Duncan - no Aiden buffer to make us all "roommates". Nope, this is me moving in with and living with (for real) an icky, smelly boy. A boy that I love very much, but hey, it's still scary! And I will miss my family, of course. You never appreciate your parents more than when it's November, you have an essay due, you have a horrible cold in your nose and no money to go buy decongestants. Being here this summer has been such a relief, and such a lovely break. And while I am so excited to move on to the next stage of my life, I will miss the comfort and the companionship and the chicken soup that I can get here.

It's all very scary, guys...