Nostalgia rears its ugly head

Warning: this post has nothing to do with the fake holiday, Valentine's Day. It's a ridiculous thing....don't even get me started.
Nostalgia; nos·tal·gia
~ a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition.
I do it to myself really; I go out of my way at times to trigger a nostalgic yearning. I look at old photos, listen to some Nick Cave or Siouxsie and the Banshees, hold an old perfume bottle close and inhale its last remaining whispers of scent and make a small trip to my past.

It's always such a bittersweet journey. Along with the memories is the knowledge that so many other moments have slipped past with blithe disregard. Which I guess is as it should be - how awful would it be to lose the ability to live this life "in the moment", to feel that every single experience needs to be documented, photographed, discussed, boiled down until nothing is left but a bland, flavourless mess as opposed to just simply experienced.

I woke up this morning to a snowy city, our first *real* snowfall of the season. I watched the snow fall past my window as Hunny Bunny and I drank coffee in bed, and was overcome by a great desire for a snow day. Desire like a child feels at the possibility of a literal get-out-of-jail-free day, a day to bug your mother and go out and play, then come back in with windburned cheeks, frozen toes and a huge grin at the thought of the fire in the fireplace waiting to warm you.

I listened to the CBC with great anticipation, but alas, no snow day for me. I bundled up and completed my ensemble with my scarf that my mom had given me so long ago, and that old-wool smell hit me with another blast of remember-when.

On the bus my iPod was on random shuffle and managed to spit out the songs that made me smile wistfully to myself and retreat a little further in my head, thinking of good times past.

As I listened to songs from a misspent youth and thought a bit on it, I realized that this most recent version of nostalgia actually started last night.

See, I played the WWdN and the Second chance. And like tourneys over the last few weeks, it just felt different. The chat was a bit quieter and some very funny people were missing, and may never re-appear thanks to the crap going down down south.

I asked Pauly last night how long ago was it that he ran his Saturdays with Dr. Pauly (as I am far too lazy to go trolling through the archives). It was longer ago than I'd thought. This four game series was what got me hooked on bloggers and blogger fun.

Hooked on bloggers ... what a freaking understatement. More like just this side of obsessed with / addicted to the blogosphere. I have been guilty of planning an evening's festivities around the WWdN or Mookie start times. I have sat quietly giggling (snickering actually), reading the chat, and eventually felt comfortable enough to jump in the conversations. My first AlCantHang Dial A Shot and Iggy blog-pimpage left me giddy for days.

Change happens..I know that as much as the next former punk rock grrl. Trust me, I feel a little ridiculous waxing nostalgic over something that just happened within the last year. But there it is.

There's no doubt that the times, they are a-changin'. But today, right now, I want it all back ... the fire, my mother's hot chocolate, the butterflies of my first kiss, that feeling of invincible fearlessness I got from wearing my old leather jacket, the ability to wear a size 12 leather miniskirt.

And I still want my snow day, dammit.

2 Responses to “Nostalgia rears its ugly head”

  1. # Blogger Irongirl01

    Be ready to squeeze into that size 12 black leather mini for Vegas Kat...Alas there isnt anything sexy about tye-dye..

    Mucho fun tabling with you last nite.


    PS. your blog entry got me a little teary eyed and maudlin.  

  2. # Blogger Michael Albert

    Ah, snow days. Memories of growing up on the shores of Georgian Bay, where they were a regular occurrence.

    Only problem was that my father was the vice-principal of the local secondary school, and technically the school didn't close -- it was just that the buses didn't run. So we always found a way of getting in.

    On the other hand, shooting hoops for most of the day, and just hanging out (because there weren't actually any classes happening) wasn't so bad.  

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