Summer has officially begun. I know this not because of the return of my freckles, or the increasingly drastic difference of the tone of my skin on my arm as compared to my stomach, or the dreadful heat, but because of the return of the frosted-tipped, wise-cracking Pacey Witter.
At approximately this time last year myself and a friend decided to watch Dawson's Creek for the sole reason that Joshua Jackson of Fringe was in it. That's still a pretty good reason if you ask me. As I eased in to the angst-filled, bowling-shirt-ridden show, I began to feel this ridiculous sense of nostalgia for the 90's. I felt like I could have fit right in. I mean, you obviously didn't need any sense of fashion, ill-fitting clothes and mis-matched patterns were the norm. I could work with that. What still fascinates me about the clothes of the nineties was a lady's ability to wear a shirt that was both too large and too short at the same time.
This summer I'm also continuing my way through three other 90's shows; The X-Files, Felicity, and Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Now I probably won't finish them all by the end of the summer but when I do have time to have a good television marathon, these will be my go-to shows. There is something about television from the nineties that attracts me to it. Perhaps its the awkward phase of style where the eighties faded away and all that remained were some reject patterns and the left-over plus size shirts. Or maybe it's the cheesy dialogue that seemed so much more abundant during this decade. Of course I was too young to determine if this on-screen cheesiness was as apparent in every day life.
After all this nostalgia and interest that these shows have brought up in me, I believe that one of my favourite things that they all have in common is the lighting, colouring and overall tone. It's as if the nineties had their own colour palette. In fact I believe all decades or time periods do. And if you can think in terms of colour palettes then perhaps you get why I love that of the nineties. Or maybe you think the colours were gross, that's a possibility too.
It's strange how these shows can make me nostalgic for a time that I really don't have that much recollection of. Seven years is a long time sure, but they are not that useful for keeping memories when they're the first seven years of your life.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
While standing in the unbelievably long line in what the administrators so dauntingly called "The Tunnel" behind the stage, the boy who stood alphabetically beside me said "You know, this is where all good movies start." After someone else sarcastically added "Yeah like 300 or Spiderman" I began to assess the truth in the first statement. I immediately jumped to Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants 2, because it's based off one of my favourite book series (and I can relate pretty much anything to those books). I imagined Bridget, Lena, Carmen and Tibby in their caps and gowns and how their stories unfolded separately but still intertwined after that day.
Or Felicity, mind you it's a television show, but still it begins with Felicity's graduation ceremony where right then she makes the impulsively foolish yet brave decision to follow her high school crush to New York City for university. And as I stood in that long cramped tunnel waiting for "the rest of my life to begin" all I could think was "gee I could really use a snack, or some air conditioning". It was rather anti climactic how it hadn't hit me yet that my first twelve years of education were complete. Maybe it was because I never thought that I wouldn't finish them. I never once considered dropping out, certainly not during high school when I had made it so far. And who really thinks about dropping out in elementary school when you can go to school to colour and hang out with your friends without arranging a play date.
As I waited to begin my march to "Pomp and Circumstance" I felt that I should be feeling something more that what I was at the time. I was excited to see my two friends give their speeches as Saludatorian and Valedictorian, and I was excited to see what the diploma looked like, but apart from that nothing. I was waiting for a wave of "HOLY CRAP I'M GRADUATING" to wash over me but, nothing.
As I watched my friends give remarkable speeches I was not only proud of them but I was proud of us all, not for sticking it out necessarily because I knew we could all do that, but for doing it all together. I haven't met such a large group of people that could stick together so well and just generally enjoy each other's presence and want to succeed together.
Even though I have still yet to have that epic wave of realization that I've graduated high school I have come to the conclusion, or more so I've reminded myself that the most important part of this twelve year journey was the excellent people I've met through out it all. Whether it be the kids I played with in the sand box on the first day of primary or the ones I walked with at graduation, the people have meant the most to me.
I can't say I remember every face that I've had the privilege of encountering during these twelve years but I know they've had something to do with who I am as begin the next four. I'll keep you posted when I realize that I've graduated high school. Perhaps it will be when I see the picture of myself shaking the principle's hand as I receive my high school diploma or maybe when I walk across the stage to receive my university diploma. Who knows.