Another World, Another Life

Early wake up, long commute, work/conference calls/meetings/spreadsheets, long commute, dinner, sleep…

Lather, rinse, repeat.

The weekends are full of laundry and groceries and crockpots and Costco and Softscrub. A little bit of of fun here and there, but mostly only chores and tidying and coupon clipping and To Do lists scribbled on scraps of paper.

Did I think, back in my high school days, that this is where I’d be in life? Spunky little Lulu- who listened to hip hop, ran with graffiti artists and professional inline skaters, and attended a non-traditional high school- finding excitement and satisfaction with a job based on sitting in front of a computer in her cube for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week?

What would she, with her long blonde hair and quirky fashion sense, think about why the skate tees had been replaced with J. Crew Jackie cardigans? And how the pristine Adidas shell toes were replaced Revas and 4 inch patent leather Weitzmans?

Would she gasp that her prized long hair was now too short to even graze her shoulders? Or would she be too busy marvelling that, for the first time since 6th grade, it was her natural color {a shade which she couldn’t even recall}?

Sometimes my past ‘self’ seems so foreign, so distant and far away, that I have to focus very hard to remember what life was like back then.

And I wonder what happened to the people I used to spend so much time with, in this past life of mine. The ones full of creative energy and humor and rebellion. Where would this 14 year time delay have taken them in life? Would they have become as different as I have?

A quick Google search on any of these old names shows me that things haven’t changed a bit- the professional skaters are still professional skaters. The kids that were interested in hip hop and writing poetry are now burgeoning hip hop artists with released albums and positive critiques from MTV and Spin magazine.

Am I the only one who didn’t stay the same?

It’s funny how the timing works out- As I pondered just how different things were, I received an e-mail that very moment from one of these old friends. A very close friend, maybe even a best friend in these old times, long lost after years of moving and traveling and growing up. This ghost of childhoods past was in Phoenix for the weekend- blowing through town, filming a new video for his successful skate company.

We met for a quick lunch between church craft bazaars and grocery runs (me) and road trips to film more sections of a skate movie (him). Was it strange, me sitting in my riding boots and skinny jeans and Hopsy bag next to tattoos and overgrown hair and hooded sweatshirts? It didn’t seem so, but the looks we received from the Denny’s staff made me aware of how different we’d become on the surface.

We talked childhood, the whereabouts of old friends, and past travels. He spoke a language of skate videos and partying and the “industry”. I spoke of Corporate America and marriage and budgeting.

“It’s great to see you,” he said. “You look exactly the same.”

I was happy to know that, inside, this couldn’t have been further from the truth.