I can feel my eyes burn from the exhaustion that comes with being three hours behind psychologically. I am jetlagged, yet refreshed.
Yesterday concluded an 11-day visit to southwest BC. Last year I took Yann with me and got to show him all my favourite places and eateries. This year’s trip was more focused on reconnecting with friends, which started off rather poorly when the first friend I had arrangements with attempted to postpone our plans as it no longer worked for them.
“Oh yeah, sure, I have less than 11 days here but let me work around *your* schedule.”
…Is what I would’ve said if I had a little more sass.
I spent the morning of the 11th visiting my grandparents in Surrey and then finished the day looking through old photos at Dad’s place in rainy Maple Ridge. I was trying to find the most awkward photo of myself to share on Instagram but my goofiest-looking era happened to coincide with when glossy photos were at the height of popularity. All attempts at taking a photo of said glossy photos resulted in a present-day visage within the photo.
Fortunately, my awkward years continued well into my late teens when matte photos had made a comeback:
18, 18+, and 21.
There weren’t very many pictures of me at these ages, perhaps because I ruined every single photo wherein I was aware that I was being photographed.
I would say the patio-chair-for-a-computer-chair is the most offensive thing about the photo in the middle, closely followed by the fleece pants and yellow t-shirt combo.
If the yellow t-shirt doesn’t remind you of a stick of Juicy Fruit gum, that’s because you can’t see that it actually had the Juicy Fruit logo across the front.
“Hi, I have sweaty bum cheeks and I advertise for shitty gum.”
I’ve never been a gum person though; I was more into snacking on my own dreadlocks. The other interesting thing in this photo is the webcam that’s sitting on top of the monstrosity that is my computer monitor, which contradicts my aforementioned camera-shyness.
Let’s also not ignore the two large festive mugs, both of which played a vital role in my overly sugared Orange Pekoe phase. Moreover, I spy with me large eyebulb a paper shredder, perfect for getting rid of any documents that my mother could have possibly come across that would have prompted a finger-wagging.
(Yes, this was the real reason I got that paper shredder.)
The third photo isn’t nearly as interesting, but I like the delightful juxtaposition that the flamingos provide. My overall look in this photo was very characteristic of my early 2000s aesthetic: too colourful to be gothic, yet not exactly emo, but too dark to be a skater.
The following day, Thursday April 12th, I found myself in my long-time hairdresser’s chair Downtown Vancouver. “Do whatever you want,” I told him. “Do you have any idea what you want?” he asked, hoping for a tiny bit of direction but the most I could give him was, “If you think it looks good long, you may keep it long.”
An hour and a half later, I floated out of Bangtown Hair Saloon with my hair looking the same, only more ethereal. My first compliment came within five minutes when I stepped into Cartems Donuts, “I LOVE your hair!” the cashier said as they handed me my apple cider fritter. I was swoon-worthy, but still had to pay for my donut.
Note to self: must find a hairstyle that would earn me free fancy donuts.
I revisted my past some more that evening, but this is a story for another evening. I must now work on resetting my internal clock to Eastern Standard Time.