Monday, 3 December 2018

Thoughts Over Brunch

I'm reverting.  I'm back and I'm reverting into the person I was last summer -- as if I never moved away at all.  I went from gossiping over decadent brunches in Sydney to psychoanalysing feelings and society over smashed avocados with the people who know me best, the way I used to.

However, I must still share something I read the last time I left this home:
But there are ways in which tiptoeing between two worlds can get lonely.  High school friends can't quite grasp your new college self, no matter how many stories you tell or Instagram profiles you show them.  College friends can guess the person you were before they met you, but they're in your life now and don't have too much time to play catch up.
You'd think my high school friends would not be able to fully understand me, given the experiences I have had this year without them -- only, I don't feel as if I've changed at all.  I know I've learned things, but as I said, I'm reverting.  I'm realising from the quality of my conversations that my high school friends know me better than I thought, and my university friends are still very much left in the dark (for now).


Brunch on Tuesday, 27/11/2018

I wrote, "My goodness, I forgot what inspiring women and chat-worthy friends I have here... can we just sit here and appreciate that these girls are still the most genuine people I've ever met.  I do take this home for granted sometimes.  It's done me good."

I say genuine because after all the things that have perhaps irritated me in Sydney, about the culture and what people find important, talking to these girls was like a breath of fresh air.  Arriving in a new place, I remember thinking that everybody was too good to be true... until I got to know them and their inevitable flaws, and got sucked into their culture.  It just makes me appreciate how amazing the people I knew before actually are -- with their lack of insecurity and need to impress people, with their genuine non-poser flawed political views, with their ideas (the fact that they actually have ideas)...

I remember asking my friends over brunch in Sydney, "What are your new years' resolutions?", to which they replied with self-conscious shrugs, perhaps not feeling close enough to share, or perhaps realising that they hadn't thought about setting goals for self-improvement at all, before continuing to discuss which boys are attractive in our cohort.  Meanwhile, my friends here were ready to offer what they'd learned throughout the year, and what they were looking for next year.  We discussed summer plans and projects to make content, and I realised that being around people who consume content and new ideas, and who talk about them, make you inspired to do the same.


Brunch on Thursday, 29/11/2018

Sometimes a situation is terribly wrong and we don't process it the way we should.  We think, because we've always lived a fairly average life, nothing that major could possibly be happening to us.  It's no big deal.  We're being melodramatic.  I personally am unsure if anything drastically emotion-worthy has ever happened to me, but it makes me wonder, how do we actually process these events if they happen to us?  Do we push past with nonchalance, not giving the situation the attention it deserves?  Do we ever cry?  It all just seems so surreal.


Brunch on Friday, 30/11/2018

She told me that when she was younger she was so self aware, but after growing up she realised that it all doesn't matter.  She said it as if it's normal for people at this age to have gone through that learning process -- to realise that the world isn't a movie and you're not the star, that what others think of you is so irrelevant, and to just stop caring.  I feel as if I never learned this lesson.


Dinner on Friday, 30/11/2018

She went to a political 'girls takeover' at the parliament house a couple of days before and had noticed that all the politicians were rich white people, elitist, kind of sheltered and oblivious?  I mean, we both agreed that we felt as if the state of leadership and decision making in this country is not our responsibility, but here's hoping our new generation will do better.

School was a flat line of months where nothing happened.  I have no idea how we did it.


Brunch on Sunday, 2/12/2018

I used to think that everybody in a similar situation to myself must be living the same experience as myself, but I now understand that this is not the case.  The theme of our conversation was independence and experiences.  What I experienced last summer, she's experiencing this summer.  I realise that in school I may have had experienced a job and people that partially shaped me, or a personality that had me always craving something to change -- and each person around me lived differently and thought differently.  I think it's the summation of our experiences that makes us any different from the person next to us, and by comparing and contrasting experiences with the people we understand ourselves to be, that's when you can see how a thing shaped you.


Dinner on Sunday, 2/12/2018

These girls were graduating.  While they may be a year behind me in school, I have always thought they were a year ahead of me in life, because they always seem to bring something new to the dinner table.  However, I have also learned to take their opinions with a grain of salt, because I forgot how suppressing culture within a high school can be.

One of them discussed how she needed to have no obligations for the year, like that one time she spontaneously drove two hours to the beach.  She said she snapped and for once was not worried about anything.  It's that feeling I had two winters ago, where you see a pretty road and have nowhere to be, so you can drive and drive along it between the trees, blasting some good music, having no idea where you're going.  She spoke of those plans where you go overseas to work and meet people, and learn things about yourself -- the things people like me always say we're going to do but never end up doing.

I feel like she has that need to leave this place, like the people and the routine are no longer enough for her.  I think it's a personality type.  Some people like change and others don't.  Change fast-tracking your self-development though -- is self development not just happening all around us?


Saturday, 2 June 2018

Thoughts: It's been a while, but let's talk about the past

Last night I said I was a passive agreer.  I was just telling some anecdotal story I'd told a million times that day, about how some guy took a second cookie and the girl next to me was like "oh my gosh, he took a second cookie?  How rude." and I was like "Yeah, gosh, how rude." - you know, passively agreeing.  And then like 20 seconds later I took a second cookie and this girl looked at me like "what the fuck."  Anyway, so I had said I was a passive agreer, and then this girl who had just walked into my room said, "to be honest, I think you're passive everything."  She was so right.

So, the last time I posted was September last year, apparently.  Back then I hadn't experienced anything.  But skip forward a few months and we reach December 31st: the last time I wrote.  Typing those letters b l o g g e r into google for the first time in ages, I stumbled across a little draft I never knew I never finished:

I'm at a brown coffee table painting my nails silver for the new year, probably running late for work, wondering why I'm writing on the blog I haven't set eyes on in 3 months.  I thought I'd said an unplanned goodbye already, but the new year has always been the most thoughtful time of year for me, and for the last three new years, I've done my reflecting here.  Perhaps this blog is in the cards for 2018 after all.

Looking back on 2017, it was a lot.  In all my medicine interviews I kept getting asked the question "What are you most proud of from the last two years?" and while I gave them all some lame answer about how I was proud of my academic achievements, which they so did not want to hear, in reality, I think my answer is "the person I have become".  Having finished school, being so comfortable with the network of people I've built around me, being confident, feeling pretty, knowing what I want, feeling ready for so much more... that's how I'm ending 2017.

And tonight I will not be getting drunk, or making out with strangers on the street at midnight.  Instead I will be in a pretty white restaurant with family and friends, and we'll eat, maybe go outside and dance with the strangers on the street, and at exactly midnight we will watch the fireworks.  I love that exact moment -- what you were doing at midnight.  Although, now that I'm writing this, I'm not sure why it's so significant.  Perhaps it's supposed to be that changeover moment where you transition into that person you want to be, who from that moment on will not be eating chocolate and will instead go to the gym.  Or perhaps it's a moment of celebration, saying goodbye and thank you to the year that has just passed.  I like the former, personally.

And now we're here: 2018.  It's a Saturday night and for some reason, the moment I closed my embryology notes, the people yelling outside my dorm window decided to shut up.  Oh well.  Too late.  I'm here now.  I'm here and I'm thinking about home -- not Sydney home (and Sydney is now home), but my other home.

The other home is a figment of my imagination now.  It's still there, standing, with my mum and my dad and my sister.  The snapchat maps still show me who's at the mall, and who's at home, and who's at the gym.  But, there's one tiny difference this weekend.  On that map is a boy from my classes, visiting those malls and a 10 minute drive away from my friends.  It's wrong.  It's weird.  It's a reminder that things are not the same and never will be.  Seeing him there, out of place, makes me homesick.  I think about what it would be like if I were there.  Well, I wouldn't be running late for work, and I don't even know where my nail polish is kept now.  My friends are now all doing different things.  I can't even picture their lives, even when they tell me all about it.  That home doesn't exist anymore.

Today, for the first time since I was simultaneously hungover and in the middle of a fever, I spent the whole day in my room.  The plan was to study, like old times, at my desk, in my room, alone.  This time though, I felt irrationally lonely.  It's all these small things that used to be so normal for me, that take me back to the night before I left, when I cried and cried and I didn't know why, because I should've been so excited for the big future I'd always dreamed of only a day away.  And it really is like living a dream, but sometimes I need to sit here and mourn what I don't have anymore.

I'm low-key in love with my sadness.