so, i had this dream last night about starting over. quitting everything, dropping everything, starting from scratch. can we ever do that?
i thought maybe that's how it would be when i came home from asia; i would be a 'new person' (pshh...) and i could start a totally new life in a new city as whoever i wished to be. but somehow i seem to be as tangled up in my old victoria life as much as ever. going back in time, even.
and yet... i talked to some friends on the phone the other night and the conversation was full of awkward pauses, silences, spaces. what to say when our lives are so separate? what stories to tell when the stories don't include each other? and a fear has come over me that perhaps all those memories and friendships will go the way of those i made in highschool; that they will slip-slide away to be rekindled briefly and without much hope (though preciously nonetheless) on brief holidays.
but emanuel reminds me that the old folks always say (and the old folks are often weathered and wise) that the friends you make at university are the ones that stick most stubbornly throughout your lives. is this true even when we all go such separate ways? so far it seems true enough; i certainly can't seem to get rid of you guys too easily...
and of course, of course, i would never want to.
c'mon. i didn't mean it.
another little thing that's been on my mind: will we follow in our parents' footsteps and let friendships fade a little at the edges when (if) minivans, mortgages, mommy-ing-daddy-ing take over? will we too become too absorbed in our little life-bubbles to remember how important and healthy friendships are? will we become mundane little family automatons? egad. such a scary thought. i just keep thinking that if i ever have children i would love for all my friends to be a big part of their lives. i would love them to have all these crazy godparents teaching them about derrida and bubble-making and indie-rock and how to fashionably perch underwear upon one's head, and all those important life skills. you know what i'm saying?
ok, well, y'know. i'm guessing this stuff's all pretty far in the future. so i'll drop it for now. but y'all better not ditch me when i have 10 screaming hyperactive and mouth wateringly adorable red-headed children, you fuckers.
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5 comments:
old friendships will be there for you, oases in the desert. They are the ultimate in selflessness, hibernating until needed, but always available.
they are a good thing, but they can't be forced into something they are not.
Hey Pretty Lady,
I'm heading to Victoria this Saturday, hoping to attend the Tippi book launch party. If you wanted a ride there (and back on Sunday) let me know. I'd be honoured to be accompagnied by the woman who gave me my favourite toque ever.
Hey Pretty Lady,
I'm heading to Victoria this Saturday, hoping to attend the Tippi book launch party. If you wanted a ride there (and back on Sunday) let me know. I'd be honoured to be accompagnied by the woman who gave me my favourite toque ever.
Well, lady, I think you doth worry too much. But then, that's been yer thing, I guess, with me worrying a little too little.
It's funny to see you coming through where I have come through, but in a slightly-altered-different, Kerria kind of way. I don't mean that in a patronizing, tilt-o-the-head-kidz-these-days kind of way, but I remember having these same kinds of self-created what-if scenarios. But then, you get old and the wrinkles around yer mouth start to look like a goatee (or is that just me?), and you realize that even if you wanted to lose yer friends, you couldn't drive those fuckers away.
And there are times when I wonder where everyone is, when no one seems to be home, and there hasn't been a party in months, and all my friends seem to have slunk into obscurity, our lives diverging. But then shortly into the future, things converge again, and you remember that there is something inexplicable that is knotted all around you all. And even if the knotted shapes change over time, and other people get wound up in this matrix, there will still be all these weirdos tied to you, as long as you all shall live. Amen!
And also, re: children (good luck on that red-haired offspring thing, too! HA!). I think the best thing we can do, the most radical, activist-y, practical thing we can do with our lives is to be communal parents. To have our kids grow up with so many godparents and weirdo adopted aunts and uncles and people that wander into their house drunk once a year and yell about Foucault and smoke clove cigarettes and read Camus. And give them perspectives that their parents are too close to them to give, and to show them all the myriad ways to live and think about the world.
This is what I feel that I would have liked more as a child, and I think I would have been a less fucked-up adolescent had I known other options existed. As much as I owe everything to our awesome parents, I refuse to go the insular mom-dad-kid-kid "this is our family and our busines" route. Cause goddamnit, I want my kids to know as many amazing people in their life as possible. And there is no one more amazing than my friends. And maybe my sister.
But I draw the line at anyone teaching them to put underwear on their head. That shit stays in Victoria, man.
Love you.
underwear on the head cannot stay in victoria. underwear on the head is a state of mind.
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