Wibbly Wobbly, Timey Wimey

Hi everyone,

This is not as much a post for you, as much as it is for me. But feel free to have a read.

Hi Sophie,

I’m writing this post because I’m currently procrastinating a paper for my Museum Collection’s Management class on insect pest infestations in furniture. I’m also having a mini-freak out.

Last month, my dear friend Holly came to visit me. Being the busy-bee she is, she only just posted the photos from our trip to London and Scotland on Facebook today. As I narcissistically looked through all of the photos that she tagged me in, I accidentally scrolled left. Have you ever scrolled left? That will bring you to the first photo you were ever tagged in on Facebook. For me, it is this photo from 2008:

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I remember this day vaguely. We went for a hike to some water reservoir or waterfall? And I think that my mom’s friend Lara was with us. It was summer, which meant I was only 11 years old. This has brought on a bit of an internal freak-out. How was it that a mere 8 years ago, I was 11 years old? A decade ago, I was 9, one month away from my 10th birthday at the rock climbing gym. How? It feels like I’ve been me, in my meta, for so long. Since this photo was taken, I’ve started and finished high school. I went from a stage-frightened child into a public speaker. I’ve dated. I’ve lost loved ones. I’ve almost completed a university degree. I’ve traveled the world. I’ve moved to a different continent. I’ve done a lot. A hell of a lot.

I’ve just finished Stephen Hawking’s Brief History of Time. If you haven’t read it already, you definitely should- it is very user-friendly. And like approaching a black hole, time does strange things in life. You know this- everyone knows this. When we wait for something, bored out of our minds, we feel every second ticking by. During an exam, I never seem to have enough. Time is weird. Very weird. I’ll be back in Vancouver in a heartbeat, and soon Cardiff  will just be a memory.

When I think about what my life will look like in 10 years, I have a few ideas, but I’m still uncertain about some very core aspects such as: what will my career be? will I fall in love? will I have a home of my own? As we get older, our life becomes more predictable because we change less. And when we are young, we are evolving at an absurdly fast rate. 10 years ago, some of my current friends would never have been friends with me because they would have been actual adults and I was a child. When I visited the Space Centre with my parents, I could have (and was) taught by people who are now my coworkers. It’s weird and I don’t know if I like it.

I always refer to myself as an 80-year-old man, not only because of my temper and varicose veins, but because I truly feel a lot older than my peers and sometimes (okay all the time), my parents. But the truth, as grim as it is, is that I’m still a teenager. At least for one more month.

Hopefully, one day when I’m actually 80, I’ll look back on this year abroad and remember how I came to realize how young I actually was. I have 60 years to do that. 60 more years of learning and making memories before I can officially refer to myself as the grumpy grandpa I am. For now, I’ll just keep learning.

On that note, here is list of things (mostly food related) that I have learned since moving out:

  • I don’t eat as much peanut butter as I am accused of at home
  • I can live off 1 pint of milk a week
  • I make incredibly delicious pasta
  • I hate paying for laundry
  • I consume more honey than I thought I would
  • Frozen dumplings are a blessing
  • Soy sauce, rice vinegar, chili paste, and sesame oil open up a range of Asian dishes
  • Not having a dishwasher is not the end of the world
  • There’s really no place like home (thank you, Judy)
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