And so it goes

Much has happened since I posted last.

I am no longer in India. I am no longer a junior. I am no longer dating anyone. I am no longer anticipating how my first-day-of-school outfit will go over (argyle jumper! -Mary).

I am a senior. I am learning about myself.

Isn't that what people always say? These nostalgic moments of sadness yet hope for the future. Somehow our memories blend together and we can only remember the small, simple good things that happened to us or that we created, and the hate, dislike, uncomfort, and awkwardness vanishes as fast as the days go by.

A few days ago I realized the marvel of modern technology. My best friend from South Africa, Danielle Scheepers, found me on Facebook. I knew it was a good way to keep in touch but I was as surprised as I was excited. I had lost touch with her for a few months, and it was a nice reassurance that there are people still out there--in my past--who know me, who appreciate me.
Since that time I have been plagued by the resurfacing of memories, images, and regrets from my childhood tucked in a small town in between two capital cities in a land far from here. I do not remember the loneliness that I sometimes felt, I do not recollect the insults that accompanied my granny glasses, the sadness I felt for not quite fitting in with the perfect girls with straight blonde hair. I do not remember the mean teacher from Grade 5 that my sister had.
I remember that I was going to be picked as a prefect if I had stayed around for Grade 7, and perhaps even Head Girl. I remember spending hours in my garden finding some way or another to entertain myself (like the time I chopped off my Barbie's hair because I thought my makeover would suit her far better, or the time I fashioned a swing for my favorite tree out of my mother's broken wooden cutting board and clothes wire). I remember incessantly reading, I remember riding my bike, I remember swimming lessons, I remember learning how to play tennis with my dad, climbing over the wall to spend time with my neighbor (Stephanie De Kock, haha). As I am writing this, I realize that I have never really shared this with anyone, including my sister. I think she didn't really like me back then, if only because of the image she had to maintain with her friends (and don't worry, she was a prefect too). I have taught a few people some colloquial terms ("boot" for trunk, "robot" for stoplight), but on the whole, I haven't opened up to anyone. I am not entirely sure why.

Today I found myself driving 25 in a 35 zone (if you have ever seen me drive, you know this almost never happens). The sun was beating down on my driving arms, warming me from outside in; the gentle breeze blowing through my fully-opened window, cooling me down just the right amount. It was bright, and that is how I remember my life. I have always thrived during good weather and find my strength waning in the colder, cloudier months. Once I reached home I sat for some time with my parents, helping my dad playfully irritate my mum. It occurs to me now that these times are winding down. As I was screaming myself hoarse at the Valley-Dowling game last night, I took a moment to absorb the lights, the eleven thousand people who were screaming along with me, the people I will never talk to after graduation, the people I will keep in touch with for the rest of my life.

I do not have a clear plan. Like Yes Maybe, I too, am taking this stress as something different. It is an odd sort of a stress, kind of like watching a car accident in slow-motion. There is impending doom yet there is a peculiar beauty to the wreckage. But hopefully my college years won't represent a car wreck, or any sort of impending doom.

One day I will look back and be nostalgic about the moments that are ahead of me in my senior year (does that make sense? it does in my head). For now, I am content remembering my winters in India, my school years in South Africa, my Friday nights at football games or with some of the most incredible people I've been given the chance to surround myself with, my school days filled with boring homework, interesting facts, life lessons, and good teachers who like me.

"Turn to the next chapter. Let's begin."