Wednesday, August 13, 2003

i just remembered! i have a digeridoo at home waiting to be learned how to be played completely properly!

these are the things you just happen to forget.

actually, i was speaking with a friend from vancouver who's actually been living in japan for a couple years now, and we were both talking about how things are back in vancouver, how our families are and all that. and for both of us, the family situation's changed a fair bit while we've been gone, our respective neighbourhood environments aren't like they were when we left (even little things like a car being sold or a bedroom being painted), but we still have these versions of reality in our minds that keep everything the same. we both know that reality as we imagine it and reality as it actually is are very different, and i'm sure we'll both get a shock whenever we end up back in vancouver, but it's still strange. i know that my room was re-organised when i left. i know that bedrooms will be different colours when i get back. i know that the inkpen house will have different inkpens living in it than i'm used to. i know that my sister's boyfriend might be living in my house when i get back. i know that the garden looks a lot more grown-over than it used to. i know my mom changed her hairstyle. i know that one of my brothers is a completely different person now. i know natasha doesn't live nearby anymore, nor does catherine.

still doesn't mean that i remember that when i think about home. it's a very strange thing. i know i'll be getting some sort of shock when i go home.

although i spoke to one person yesterday who i haven't talked to in months, told me certain things that i needed to hear. told me to spend as much time out here as i can, because when i come home, nothing's going to be the same anyways, the people i was used to having around won't be there (whether it's because they've moved or because they're busy or whathaveyou), so keep on living as long as i can because i'm never going to be able to come back to the place i left anyways. so no need to feel homesick and feel the need to return quickly. however, she added, whenever i do come back, i'd better work my ass off to keep meself busy so that i don't end up getting depressed. a few years ago she travelled in asia for a few months and when she came back, the flight attendent gave her the best advice on the way home, simply to not let herself get depressed. so when she got back she made that summer The Summer O' Fun and had an awesome time to keep herself from getting down. and it worked. and i must say, even for those of us who hadn't been travelling the world, that summer was indeed The Summer O' Fun despite the fact that that was also The Summer Of The Massive Transit Strike That Lasted Three Months (found out port moody and port coquitlam weren't entirely all bad afterall!).

but anyways. all in all, it was a conversation that i had to have. made me stop feeling so guilty for thinking about stay out here. which suddenly makes you feel a lot better about staying.

even better, zee germans just called to say hi and wish me well when i take off tomorrow (as well as to make sure that their house hasn't burnt to the ground or anything), and i got to tell olaf that i'd been thinking about not coming back here first if i did head to england. i'd been feeling guilty about thinking of just heading straight there if zee germans were expecting to see me again, but olaf's awesome, s'no skin off his back. and hopefully things will work out so that i can still come back here anyways, it just depends on flight prices, really. but yay! less guilt once again!

got no more secrets, had some guilt relieved, even got some form of contact through email from someone that i'd really been hoping to hear from this morning (not personal or anything, but the fact that any email was sent at all makes me feel better). and today i get to drive around to do errands for awhile. and it's nice and windy outside. and if i get everything else done in time, i'm going swimming at the lake this afternoon.

yee haw.

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