I have always been very prone to bouts of nostalgia. Every so often I get lost in memory, go back through bits of the brief journals I'd keep now and then, and often, cry. I'm a big sap. Doesn't matter if it's a happy thing or a sad thing, thinking about the past just gets me in a weepy way. For some reason, I tend to think that things won't get better, that the best is right now. Of course, that's when I'm right in it... then I move on to the next plane of awesome, and repeat the process.
Today, two planes converged. The improv team was invited to my old elementary school to perform with one other team and do workshops with some of the students. I have a love/hate relationship with that school. I went to the same school for TEN YEARS. That is a very long time. I went through my first days away from my mom, making first friendships (then losing them), first crushes, teachers I loved, teachers I hated, teachers who inspired me... it all came from there. By the time I was finishing up there, the principal sucked and we were all beyond ready to move on. But as much as I was happy to move on to a new place, I still have a lot of love for that place. I get excited when I get to go back there.
So I was pretty happy to do the workshops. Not only did I get to have fun with my team again, but we got to pass it on! What's not to love? What I didn't know was that this afternoon, there would be another performance for the students -- a musical Stomp-esque group made up, in part, of people I haven't seen since grade eight graduation. People who, for the most part, I never wanted to see again. They were cool, I wasn't, that's how it goes. I have come to understand how unimportant "coolness" is and I've long since moved on... except when I see people I went to grade eight with, I immediately think about what I'm wearing, who I'm with, will they think I'm way cooler than I was, will they judge me, will they laugh at me after I leave... insecurities are fun! I was not excited to see them, but improv has taught me that the people who you think are the coolest and most popular are just as insecure and freaked as everyone else. I tried to remember this all afternoon.
In the end it didn't really matter. It was ok seeing everyone, they were nice, I was nice, the boys were suddenly really built and less attractive than I remembered them. C'est la vie, I guess. What was great was performing again. We were rusty, but it was still wonderful. I love my team.