Those of you who know me well know that I am generally a very nostalgic person. (I'm famous for saying things like "Did you know that five years ago today we were doing__________?" or "Can you believe that it's been 10 years since we_________?" or even more random, "Remember when we went to _________ and you were wearing _______?") I guess I've just had a really great life with lots of wonderful experiences to reflect on--and I might be a little OCD.
But over the past several weeks I've had a few opportunities to look back at some past events through the corrective lens of time and realize that either I'm getting old or my dad was right all along and I was, in fact, quite a twit.
A few examples:
1)There was a time in my life where the movie Newsies was pretty much an obsession for me. I saw it in the theater six times over the course of about a month, bought the soundtrack and listened to it until the cassette almost snapped and had an enormous crush on the main actor. My sister, knowing how much I liked the film, gave my family the DVD for Christmas last December. Since then, my children have become enamoured with the show and watch it at least once a week. It has been fun to hear the music again, but for the most part, every time I see it now I can't help but roll my eyes and think "What was all the fuss about?!" It's rather cheesy and contrived.
2)For our date night last week my husband and I went to dinner at a restaurant that was one of my favorite hang out spots as a teenager. We ordered "cheese fries" because you just have to when dining at this particular restaurant. I found them quite fun and tasty for about the first five bites and then they seemed to make me rather ill. I couldn't get over how greasy and fattening it all was--food attributes that never really occurred to me fifteen years ago. I had an upset stomach for the rest of the night and my husband had one into the next day. I just can't pack it away like I used to.
3) For most of my childhood I was preoccupied with getting my ears pierced. My parents were rather opposed to the idea and wouldn't let me do it. On several occasions I went so far as to try to pierce my ears myself but every time I either got caught or chickened out. I swore that on my eighteenth birthday I was going to drive myself to the mall and get it done. But my eighteenth birthday came and went and I didn't care anymore. (I did end up getting my ears pierced at the age of 23 during my semester abroad in the South Pacific--but that's another story.) Now I have a daughter, a daughter who is so much like me in her temperament that it's a bit scary. And you guessed it, she wants her ears pierced. I know exactly how she feels but I'm still not going to let her do it. At her age it's just too much hassle. The ten-year-old me would be shocked to discover what a fuddy-duddy I've become!
I think the most surprising thing about adulthood for me is that I don't mind being a "grown-up." I love to remember my younger years but I recognize that in a lot of ways I'm not that person anymore.
And that's fine with me.
10 comments:
And every passing decade there are fewer things and less stuff that are important and the people become the focus of our existence.
I love reading your babbles.
Love,
Aunt Sally
I saved you from a home ear piercing after witnessing your multiple trips upstairs for cotton balls, needles, alcohol, and finally ice. I still chuckle whenever I think about the look on your face when I caught you just seconds before Cathy was about to shove a needle through your ear.
In my youth my favorite movie was The Man from Snowy River. Although I still like the music, the last time I watched it I realized that, like Newsies, it has a high cheese-factor.
"I love to remember my younger years but I recognize that in a lot of ways I'm not that person anymore." ... This reminds me of a line from a musical: "Long ago in someone else's lifetime someone with my name who looked a lot like me ...."
I get that feeling every once in a while, too. The younger me would not have chosen many of the good things that my life has become (the job I have, the husband I married, and Wow, I can actually drive a stick shift now). But, I didn't want my ears pierced then, and I still don't want them pierced now, so some things don't change.
Cheese fries and Newsies--what a flood of memories! When my nieces became obsessed with that movieI had to laugh (they were 13 instead of 19 however)because one of my favorite memories is going to see it at the dollar movie on one of my many trips home from Ricks and sitting in a packed theater full of obsessed girls from 10-25 who were screaming like it was a Beetles concert. I have a similar reaction to cheese fries--great memory, horrible consequences!
Wow, my Aunt Sally is on the internet! I know she's pretty savvy, but there are some things you just don't expect to see. Love you!
Ahhh, that brought back memories. Didn't you try magnetic earrings? Gosh who can't resist boys fighting for truth and justice by dancing in the streets?
Newsies! Those were the days, huh? Remember when we both bought the soundtrack and we sat on the grass on BYU campus listening to it at the same time and singing along? We were such nerds! Happy memories, nonetheless, of days gone by.
hi friend--Training Table? That's got to be the resturant you're talking about! Oh I miss that place and their cheese fries with dipping sauce! Did you know that Cathy and Laura drug me into a mall in Seattle--when Cathy was living there and we visited her) and got my ears pierced.--I was 19.
Ah, yes, the days of cheese fries and Newsies . . . I don't know whether to laugh or shudder about those days. Probably both.
As for #3, we recently finished negotiations in our house about that very thing. The oldest daughter is old enough to take care of them and not look silly wearing earrings, so it's hard to say no forever. She'll be getting them soon.
Regarding Newsies: I was crazy in love with Brooklyn. Ah, those blue eyes. Always wished he'd had a bigger part.
And for the earings: got mine pierced when I was twelve, got a nasty ear infection, let the holes close up and never looked back.
Oh, hi, I'm Crystal, by the way. Found your blog through Annette's.
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