lundi, mai 09, 2005
we were just getting to the good part
I think the hard part about leaving somewhere is that you lose the life you invested your time and energy creating. University is a little bit of an odd situation, of course, because it is cyclical and constantly changing - you can't expect it to last forever. My own routine for the past several months consisted of class first thing in the morning, stopping by J9, sometimes going for coffee with Scott, sometimes doing homework in the Loft, maybe heading home for lunch, attending afternoon classes, then going home for dinner and homework. Now that I'm removed from that life I don't quite know what to do with myself, since I'm now just deposited randomly in the lives of the family and friends I've returned to. Is my old life relevant anymore? Is it still mine, or does it not matter?
I was always so grateful to have Scott at Bishop's. He was the one person who helped me feel connected to something of an "adult" world while being surrounded by an environment of mostly youth ('cause me and him, we're SO old, you know). Not only did he tutor me in a class I needed to pass, but he provided an introduction to a social circle of good and interesting people. He hosted poker games, always shared his wine with me, always bought my coffee when we met up to chat, encouraged me, argued with me, and laughed with me.
And more recently I met Devin. We probably wouldn't have started spending time together if not for that day that I was convinced I had failed my Modern Government midterm (only to find out later I actually got a decent 74). It was St. Patrick's Day and as good a day as any to head to the Lion and drink beer. We hit it off well enough to move on to the Grec (a mainstay in the Bishop's student diet) for poutines. And he walked me home. We proceeded to spend the majority of our time together for the rest of the semester (a short seven weeks), even when I was extremely stressed about exams and papers and was less-than-nice. Devin proofread all of my assignments and papers, reminded me to remove commas (I tend to use a lot of them), told me how great my work was, told me my exams would go well. We laughed a lot, watched TV, ate terribly (lots of Grec and McDo during this period), and every once in a while, when nothing was due, we'd drink some wine and watch a movie. On the list of things I thought I'd never do this past year was "date a 22-year-old", but I'm glad I was open to the possibility. We had a hard time saying good-bye last week.
I know I need to move forward. It's hard to know what to do next, that's all. | ¶ 1:28 p.m.
I was always so grateful to have Scott at Bishop's. He was the one person who helped me feel connected to something of an "adult" world while being surrounded by an environment of mostly youth ('cause me and him, we're SO old, you know). Not only did he tutor me in a class I needed to pass, but he provided an introduction to a social circle of good and interesting people. He hosted poker games, always shared his wine with me, always bought my coffee when we met up to chat, encouraged me, argued with me, and laughed with me.
And more recently I met Devin. We probably wouldn't have started spending time together if not for that day that I was convinced I had failed my Modern Government midterm (only to find out later I actually got a decent 74). It was St. Patrick's Day and as good a day as any to head to the Lion and drink beer. We hit it off well enough to move on to the Grec (a mainstay in the Bishop's student diet) for poutines. And he walked me home. We proceeded to spend the majority of our time together for the rest of the semester (a short seven weeks), even when I was extremely stressed about exams and papers and was less-than-nice. Devin proofread all of my assignments and papers, reminded me to remove commas (I tend to use a lot of them), told me how great my work was, told me my exams would go well. We laughed a lot, watched TV, ate terribly (lots of Grec and McDo during this period), and every once in a while, when nothing was due, we'd drink some wine and watch a movie. On the list of things I thought I'd never do this past year was "date a 22-year-old", but I'm glad I was open to the possibility. We had a hard time saying good-bye last week.
I know I need to move forward. It's hard to know what to do next, that's all. | ¶ 1:28 p.m.
