The last week or so has got to be one of the most interesting time blocks for me in recent years.
It seems that while I was cleaning the garage I ripped a hole in the space-time continuum. apparently when you find a shoebox filled with very old pictures you should never open it lest a gateway open to the other side.
no one told me this though so almost immediately after looking through all of them I started getting messages from people I either...
(*digression* I found these pictures and sat down on the ground, garage door open, laughing my ass off at each picture, gleefully, joyfully, in my fucking pajamas while school children, plodding through the rain, looked on, making odd corner faces and vowing to never end up like me, laughing like a loon at nothing)
a) had forgotten
b) tried to forget
c) killed and stuffed into the crawl space
d) never knew to begin with
or
e) missed terribly but lost contact with
It's a little scary and exhilarating and annoying all at the same time.
facebook is partially to blame. I only opened the account about a week ago and murders of individuals have descended upon me, demanding my undying friendship. It's weird, I mean, I'm not even a nice person, let alone a good friend.
but while I blame online networking, it's not entirely at fault.
social gatherings, parties, etc. have played their part as well, and one friend even went so far as to look me up the old fashioned way, and by old fashioned I mean scouring the internet for information about myself and my family until he not only had my phone number but my whereabouts and job locations for the last 10+ years.
talk about dedicated.
I've clearly been outdone.
I only half-ass entered his name into a myspace search and then muttered, "oh well", while I nodded to some trendy indie music, courtesy of the ever growing myspace conglomerate.
out of all this, I'm especially happy to have reconnected with two of these individuals. I'm fairly certain they would know who I meant if they happened to catch this post. they live far away, ironically closer to each other than they are to me.
this chain of events doesn't seem to be done unraveling, and while I'm happy to hear from most of these people again, it certainly rabble-rouses old thoughts, emotions, etc.
it hugs back and pokes bruises and makes fun of you for not fitting into your old size 2 jeans.
we're all "growed up", faded xeroxes of our vibrant youth. our hearts have been broken and glued back together so many times that we can't effectively hold the "happy" in anymore.
but when we talk, we remember what we used to feel like, and that is an incredible feat.
that is mental and emotional crack and I'm pretty sure I want more.
hm. can you smoke nostalgia?
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