August is such a month of change. Every year . . . even after the point where you'd think it wouldn't be such a significant month anymore. But somehow it shows up again every 334 days and at the very least some tiny little corner of life is turned upside-down.
This week was/is the six year anniversary of me moving to Florida and starting at Disney. For a week I didn't document in any way at all I remember it incredibly well - I checked in on the 21st, program orientation on the 22nd, Traditions on the 23rd, On With the Show on the 24th, Honey training on the 25th, assessment on the 26th, working on the 27th, and finally a couple of days of on the 29th and 30th . . . but only through an act of God. And an awesome intervention by a manager because my training buddy and I originally weren't scheduled for a day off until Friday and Saturday, and while ten straight days became something that we did regularly later on, there is no way that we would have made it that week. Of course, somehow the schedule changed in one program but not the other and when I came back to work on Thursday I discovered I had two no call/no shows on my record. Which led to a minor panic attack from visions of being fired before I even got my first paycheck, but thankfully that one happened to be a simple and quick fix.
And that's where it began - the two and a half years that would completely change my life. Of course, it could be argued ones life is completely changed every time two and half years passes, but some are more noticeable than others, and these were definitely the most dramatic of my life thus far. You may have noticed that I've been on a bit of a nostalgia kick lately. All year, really. Turns out high school reunions will do that to you. Well, that and some old Disney friends posting a bunch of old pictures and videos from the height of the old "glory days" when work meant a couple dozen 20-somethings showing up hungover (either from alcohol or from three hours of sleep for the entire week) and seeing just how much craziness we could get away with before the managers rolled their eyes and said "okay, that's enough." We didn't generally push the boundaries beyond that - we needed the money to pay for the food we ate and souvenirs we bought spending all our free time at work (so to speak).
After spending this summer seeing things from that tiny stretch of time . . . being reminded of things I'd completely forgotten . . . it's been something else. It's made me realize how much I miss those days. I was so burned out by the end, but before that those were days never to be forgotten. So much so that I actually logged back into my myspace account recently. I was actually a little surprised that I still could, it's been at least four years since the last time I did. But there were pictures on there that I lost when my hard drive got fried and two years worth of blogs chronicling the time from just before I graduated college to right around when Luke and I got engaged(slash about the time I stopped using myspace). I hadn't thought about them in ages, but suddenly I had to have them again, so I spent something like three hours the other night copying the blogs into a word document. And laughing in amazement and amusement over the detailed accounts of tiny little things, so I'd completely forgotten. It's crazy to see such stark evidence of what a different person I am now than I was then. It made a good contrast to the video from the reunion - I could identify with those little freshmen. I could remember being one of them, and sometimes it feels so much like no time has passed . . . like I'm still 14 . . . like we all are. But I read my blogs from just a few years ago, and while I remember everything now that I've read it, I see it in my head and it's almost like an out of body experience. In some cases I even remember the entire outfit I was wearing but I watch it like - well, like Emily in Our Town Act III. There's got to be some irony in that somewhere, right?
Anyway. I read those blogs and I'm amazed, not just at how I've changed but at just who I was back then. On the one hand, I was very aware of just who was reading then and why . . . and it's quite the long story that I shan't get into now. I'm not ashamed of who I see in them, although some people probably would think I should be. But if I hadn't been her then, I wouldn't be me now. I don't know that I can say that I regret nothing, but any list of regrets would definitely be in just the single digits. It's amazing - and I wasn't expecting it . . . but rediscovering who I was has left me more comfortable with who I am. It hasn't put all the little issues and anxieties I have to rest, but it has reminded me what it is to feel comfortable in my own skin.
It's been an immensely cheering little trip down memory lane, but a little depressing too. One of my old friends sums it up best here. And while all of us who were part of that particular story couldn't read it without copious amounts of tears, the first part won't mean much of anything to anyone who wasn't there. But I imagine the second half to be something anyone can understand. Those few years . . . they were something else. And there's no getting them back, but I'm not sure I even want to. As we all know, you can't go home again. :-)
I'm not sure what I might do with the blogs. Part of me wants to post them all today and give everyone else a bit of a laugh too . . . another part wants them to never see the light of day again. I probably will post a few here and there when the whim of nostalgia strikes. If nothing else, the entertainment value is seriously through the roof, lol. For now though, I think I'll just enjoy a renewed sense of security in myself. Even if it is tinged with some sadness.
P. ost S. cript
Now here's a couple of slightly trippy moments I would have loved to see in person! Hooray for Push! :-)