| this song is so boring... 06.13.02 |
| I think it started with the Class of '95 when we started attending graduations together and had to sit through boring speeches and long lists of complete strangers. "This song is so boring, this song is so long," we sang, to the graduation anthem. Try it. It goes perfectly with the tune. When the names were called, we'd cheer loudly for the students who had no cheering section. Suddenly, they were popular. Suddenly, graduations were fun again. First of all, CONGRATULATIONS to those who graduated/were promoted this year!! I attended the preschool promotion at the YMCA that I worked at for six months before the move. At first, I debated on whether or not to go back. Would the kids remember me? What's the point? But I talked to Q. and N., both recently resigned teachers, and they said they were going back. So I went. It was great to see the teachers again and to see the kids. They were so cute decked out in red, yellow or blue caps and gowns. They ran up to us and hugged us...they didn't ask where we had been or why we left...they just figured we were away for awhile and would eventually come back. One mom even said that her son still names me as one of his teachers. Their song of choice to perform was the one about eating worms, complete with motions. Too cute. I don't regret going. As soon as I stepped through the doors to the school, all the memories flooded back. I thought of the afternoons when I walked in, tired already, set up the snack and peeked into the classroom to count how many kids there were. They'd all be sleeping (except for Brianna and Kate, the no-nap girls) in their cute Barbie and Blues Clues sleep sacks, hair matted down with sweat. I thought of the evenings when I left, and more often than not, would call up Q. to see what she was doing. Then we'd decide if we wanted to make dinner at my place, go somewhere to eat, or hang out at Border's. In the earlier days, we'd be dragging ourselves to capoeira or kickboxing. After the promotion, we had one more spot to hit...Royal Donuts at Ranch 99 in Daly City. As we drove up Eastmoor, it was like we had never left. We were in Q.'s little red car, going to our favorite boba place...and it felt like any other day when we had hung out together. Our favorite drink girl wasn't there, but the Boy Who Smiles Too Much was. That set us off with a battle of remarks about why the Boy likes the other person more. "He asked YOU if you wanted napkins," and "Last time, he asked me where YOU were", etc. Again, just like old times. I think we knew this was the last time we'd be drinking boba together from there...for a long time. And as we pulled back onto Highway 280 going north, we reminisced about all the other times we drove on the freeway, going to class, and how we'd often get tapioca drinks, sushi, or mochi before capoeira. We'd feel it during the "warm-up" run (more like a race around the gym), and vow never to eat before class again. But when the next class rolled around, we'd find ourselves calling in for sushi or buying mochi again. See, it's things like that that make it hard to move on. I love San Francisco, I love Daly City, I love San Bruno, I even love Colma. But sometimes I just don't want to go back to visit. Whenever I go back, I think about all the great memories I had and all that I left behind. Of course, I love the life I have moved on to, and I know there are opportunities that I would never pass up just to live back in the Bay Area. But I still can't help but feel sad when I look back and realize that I will never have a time like that again in my life. When I walk or drive down the familiar roads in the Bay Area, I have some kind of memory there that is forever lodged in my mind. I know those roads better than I know Sacramento, and I know those memories so well, too. But I also know the joys and the lessons that I have benefitted from as I have moved away from the Bay Area and onto a new adventure here in Sacramento and Brazil. Who knows if I will end up living back there in the future...but for now, it's time to pack up, move on, and....ocassionally look back. |
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