Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Memories-Destination Unknown

So, memory is a funny thing... and if I ever get accepted to another university willing to take a chance on me, I might take a class on the human mind (I wonder if that would count as an elective?)... It's amazing the things you forget over time. I know that last sentence sounds stupid, but seriously, it sucks to forget things. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day who regretted not keeping a journal during a 3 month visit to Europe. And it's true- very few of us actually keep good records of this show we call life. I pulled out the 2001 Springville High School Yearbook with "Destination Unknown" on the cover. Don't ask me why I pulled out my junior year yearbook, I hadn't yet reached my peak of coolness, so one would naturally assume I'd go straight for Senior year, but alas, this is where my attention focused.
1 sidebar very quickly: if you ever are in need of a self esteem boost, look at your old yearbooks. Generally speaking, you only had people sign your yearbook, whom you liked, and knew liked you. So 98% of what people wrote were compliments about you (I reserved the 2% for Blake Haines who wrote something about how I should stop being a closet gay, and the person who wrote "Duke Rules" all over my year book...thanks a lot Mortensen). But seriously, even if half of what these people are writing is generic "yearbook jargon" it still suffices as quite a morale boost :)
ok, sidebar aside, I think everyone should pull out their Junior Year Yearbook (I'll wait while you search frantically through old book shelves, or call your parents and ask if they kept any of your old belongings...).
Got it? ok, good. Now, just open up the first page and read the comments...I defy any of you to not find some quote, advice, memory that you had forgotten through the falling of the sands of time. I found tons! first off, some of these people had very nice things to say about me (again, they may have written the same thing in everyone's yearbook, but it doesn't matter), and I can not even remember who they are. I feel like a huge jerk for that. Secondly, it's often been said that adolescence is a time filled with identity issues. well, apparently, Junior year was mine, because I had way too many nicknames. the thing is, I'm pretty sure most of them were self appointed, which is not how nicknames are supposed to work...but it's nice to see that some things don't change, because I'm still giving myself nicknames. But there were some good ones from back in the day, that I had long forgotten about: Mr. Sensitive (I'm totally Mr. Sensitive!!), BYOB (thanks Kirsta for reminding me in your message on the back page!), Mr. Tough, Muerte! of course, I'm not sure how I had the nickname Muerte (spanish for death) and Mr. Sensitive at the same time, but clearly I was a chameleon back then.
So I could go on and on about the, well for lack of a better term, and this being the digital age "postings" on my yearbook, but since I only know of a select few that have occasion to read this blog, here are a few things I'd like to bring up:

First-and just a general statement. Lots of people mentioned memories of me in College Alg/Trig, and how fun it was. I don't remember it being fun. I barely passed that class. I honestly did not remember that I was such a nuisance...No wonder I didn't learn anything, and I'm surprised anyone learned anything with me in their class... I was a complete distraction. Teachers must have hated me!

but I digress...


Diana...you said that "if we ever got bored, we needed to conjugate irregular french verbs" well, I just want to say that your lack of follow through probably is the reason I'm not fluent today... :)

Justin- you said we were going to go camping everyday during the summer of 2001. I'm looking back on my date book, and you know what I didn't see?? it filled with notes about all my various camping appointments! although the few we did go on were wicked cool. (I'm guessing my schedule at the Hogi Yogi was pretty demanding or something :)

Mossey, you made several comments about my rugged good looks...I can't argue with that.

Will said something about me being the Great American Pelican... I know there's a story behind this, but I'm drawing a blank. Perhaps because I blocked it out. Ring a bell to anyone else?

Brad brought up something about cell phone smashing, which I vaguely remember...but not completely since I didn't own a working cell phone until I was back from the mish...

Boyer talked about how I was the greatest locker partner he ever had (loose translation)

Dave... guess what dave?? I can't find anything in my junior yearbook from you!!!? what's that about?! next time I visit Utah, I'm bringing this yearbook and you're going to write something in it!

So, generally speaking, it was really fun to look this over. I think when you are in the last days of school, and a whole day is basically set aside for people to sign yearbooks, it seems like a waste of time...I remember thinking that the whole process was a tad bit self centered. but looking back on it, it's good to remember the days of yore. These I've mentioned and a few specific others that I haven't, have had a distinct impact on the person I am today. I think we sometimes forget that the journey of becoming who we want to be, is often just as important as the attainment of that persona. I just looked back on what was only a sliver of my life, and realized-that sliver, albeit small and seemingly insignificant on the outside, actually affects a huge part of who I am, and how I act, and why I tend to use comedy as an escape.

This small moment has opened up this stroll down memory lane...It's like the movie inception, only without all the complicated twists, turns, and thrills. It's as if I'm walking down a street and the buildings I walk past are structures representing my memories- my past. I pass a building on my right, it's a concert hall. Inside are all my memories of orchestra. I walk past the concert hall, and there's a frozen yogurt/sandwich/Japanese fast food restaurant (crazy, I know...) just across from the restaurant is the french embassy with a crazy man and lady standing out front (how were we so blessed to have two completely insane french teachers?? I'll never know). I turn down the street to the right and there's an open courtyard, with some sort of street fair in progress-filled with dances I've been to, and kids listening to a stereo in the middle of the hall... it's crazy. So many buildings/events are going on in this city in my mind. It's really quite amazing and in that respect, the fact that only a few things have slipped past my ability to recall them, is in and of itself a miracle. But that's why these things are so important. Journals, pictures, video, scrapbooks, and yes, even High School Yearbooks, can serve as defibrillators for the mind.

Anyway, this is a long post, but I encourage everyone to look back at these tools and take a trip through your own "city of memory". perhaps I'll see you there ;)

3 comments:

  1. I laughed out loud like 19 times. I have no idea where my yearbook is but I am so curious now.

    I remember you being called the Great American Pelican. I didn't know then and I don't know now what that means.

    Is it pathetic that I hated Broadhead so much I tried to forget French? It worked. But I do see him sans eyepatch at Macey's.

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  2. Well Mr. Sensitive, I laughed so hard at these comments. I still think you have ruggish good looks.

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  3. Alas. My yearbooks are all in the attic, and I am scared of the attic. But now I really want to look through them. Guess I'll have to wait for my big, strong man to come home and help me out.

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