it's a funny old game: this morning we rocked up to rounds at 8:30am and guess what? it was cancelled. and - you guessed it - we had nothing on for the rest of the day! fortunately a resident sympathised with us and gave us some names so xiu and i wandered over for a chat with one of the old ladies in question, and somehow arranged to tag along to an OT home visit to her house in williamstown! score! it was one of those lovely homes with paintings and photos over every inch of the walls where we can glimpse into their lives over the past fifty years. we then breakfasted overlooking williamstown beach (where some locals were doing rather strange things) before calling it a day at 1pm. it's funny how well things turn out when you think it's gone down the drain!
met up with megs this arvo and trudged up and down lygon street for a few hours. i rarely see her now but every time we catch up we start off a bit unsure, swapping recent stories, trying to gauge what has changed in the other person; but soon we realise that things are pretty much the same, we still like the same things, still worry about the same things, still argue about the same things, and the conversation turns to old familiar questions that will never be answered; but we talk for the sake of talking and spending time together; and then it's time to part again. i'm shit at goodbyes. it's like coming across an old book on your bookshelf which you're not sure you've read before, but soon you realise you have but it's one of your favourites in days gone by, so you read the interesting bits while reliving part of your past, but soon you get a bit bored and put it back on the shelf, to rediscover it another day.
one thing we did talk about was what a long way we have both come since we first met. i've been doing a lot of thinking about this lately, given it's my final year at uni and all that, trying to consolidate the experience into something i can understand and more to the point remember. but i remember being in year eight and thinking tenth graders being so mature. but the simple truth is they had more time to think about things, to discover themselves and the world around them. their ideas werent any more valid than mine, they've just thought through them more. and hand-in-hand with this, they're more set in their ways, less original, less open to new ideas. and this, i guess, is one of the things i fear - that i'd become like that. when i was in first year i used to pity my parents, how they seemed so set in their ways of thinking. i'd fight on forever, i told myself. a bit later on i still didn't want to become like them, but i could see where they were coming from and how they'd gotten to be how they are. now, i find i'm looking at high school kids and finding myself sneering at their immaturity, but aren't i falling into the same trap?! am i becoming so fixed in my superiority, my ways of thinking, that i'm afraid to embrace awkwardness? have i lost my daring to make mistakes? i must remember to always fight to keep some part of that awkwardness, that daring, that innocence.
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