Memories

['Thanks for the memories, Fall Out Boy. Or is that Thnks fr th Mmrs?]

The other day I got the shock of my life when as I was cleaning up my room I found an old home video (with no label on it other than a video camera tag on it).

No, it wasn't a video of my parents having sex or anything like that, it was a Christmas video from 10 years ago.

You might ask "what is so shocking about that"? Since the last century our family group has receeded due to divorce and death and in some cases, selfishness.

When it comes to a genuine big family Christmas: that was one of, if not, the last.

On the ABC and SBS when they show old footage they have a warning for Aboriginal viewers that people who have passed on may appear on the screen.

Since this was a home video it didn't have that warning, so there before me lay the images of ghosts.

And yes, I was scared of these ghosts that lurked in the back of my mind for days to come.

Maybe I'm more Aboriginal than I thought perhaps?

But what I wonder is what happens to the memories of these people: once they have left our life one way or another.

Why do these memories fade? Is it that we choose to forget bacause of what happens that ceases for them to be in our life? Does our brain only hold enough memories, meaning that we will lose the cherished moments of the past?

And when they do come back to the front of the mind - why do they hold our heart and mind hostage in such a way?

I know one thing - I won't be watching that video for a while now.

Maybe another ten years.

I didn't go

[Girls just want to have fun]

The other day a high school reunion was held. I didn't go.

A couple of reasons why I didn't go.

Has anyone seen Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion? How the girls were treated so poorly at high school, but they at least had each other to rely on at the reunion.

Unfortunately, my friends from high school have moved on to further away places and I have lost contact. I would go there alone and have to react to the barrage of questions.

"So what are you up to? What's your job? Oh my god you put on so much weight! Have you moved out of home?"

Well I'm a student - still having not satisfied my dream of working in the media. After four years of working for the man and getting sidetracked I'm trying my best again to get the job that I love, not live to work.

I work in a call centre, as usual. Not that glamorous. Not at all.

Yes, I have put on weight since high school but have recently lost a lot of weight, but am still quite a lot of work away to getting to my high school weight (and I was still overweight at high school).

I am living at home. With Mum and what's left of my family who wants to live together in attempted harmony.

It sucked seeing the photos on Facebook of all the smiles of everyone from my old high school and seeing how happy they were.

You know why? It reminded of the shit I went through in high school. The intimidation. The seperatism. The name calling. The abuse.

Of all the photos of people there - they all got on. They were all mates. They were part of the cool group. The fat guy who likes music and drama doesn't get into the cool group. He stays with the nerds. But there are only so many nerds, and none of those nerds turned up to the reunion.

Before the year 11 formal I was told by one of the "cool kids" that I would be thrown off the boat. I didn't go.

In the year 12 formal I wore blue hair in the hope of trying to somehow fit in. Trying to be a part of something I so clearly wasn't. I washed my hair halfway through the formal, knowing that I didn't fit in - I never was going to. I wasn't part of the cool people. I was a nerd. And you know what, the nerds didn't turn up to that formal either.

I even made fun of a mate of mine, I feel ashamed to this day, trying to fit in. Trying to be the bully. He wasn't there to defend himself. Heartless I was. I tried to be one of them.

So, ten years later, everyone grows up. Everyone is different. Or are they? Seeing those photos brought up the hurt and the pain of many years before. There are many other stories of the shit I went through at that school, but the cool kids were okay. They stayed up the back, smoked whatever they wanted and did as they wanted.

I'm not happy about what happened there during my time at that school, but I am proud of how I overcame all the shit, including shit at home, to complete my HSC.

That makes me a winner.

Maybe I'll go to the next reunion, maybe it'll be different. Maybe I won't be the pudgy work-in-progress that I am right now. The only reason I would want to go is to show that despite it all, I have succeeded. But unlike Romy and Michelle, I hope I don't need to say I invented post it notes.

The things you do for love

[What is love? Baby don't hurt me. Don't hurt me no more.]

Love - it's crazy.

The things you do for love are crazier.

I have done stupid things for love. Like taking time off the IIRL, even walking out on work experience at a local newspaper (that could have got me started in my career in the media) to e with my (then) girlfriend.

But one stupid thing I've done was singing Baby One More Time... twice - once to impress a chick (who was meant to be nice but ended up being a bitch) and the next was at my brother's 21st.

Unfortunately, the latter was recorded so it shall be seen online sometime soon (I'm currently editing through the footage).

I love my family but I also love the media (what I want to get into in life) as well as loving someone else and that splits me big time - my parents want me here, that someone else wants me somewhere else and then there's the media.. Lord knows where I will end up there.

In the past I have just defaulted towards family and helping them out, but I am coming towards 30 and surely at some stage I need to look after myself.

No matter what I do for love this time, not everyone will love it.

UPDATE 27/09: My performance of me singing Baby One More Time at Ryan's 21st can be seen at - http://www.new.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=37227929847