Posted by: Chelsea Novak | July 23, 2002

Keep it fresh

For some reason Wendy’s idea of “fresh boys” makes me imagine a really big kleenex box where as soon as you take out a boy a fresh new one pops up. I then thought about how I used to be really picky about the colour of tissue I used (we sometimes had the tissue boxes that had 4 different colours of tissue), so I’d pull out the tissue until I found a colour I liked. I’m sure serveral of the boys I’ve scorned would suggest that I’m the same way with men. Which would most likely be why I scorned them in the first place.

M and I watched “Empire Records” last night and it took me on quite a trip down memory lane. It’s been 2 years since I left the store and 7 since I started there… all innocent and unjaded, plaid mini-kilt and all. Part of me misses it sometimes. The early years at least. Back when it was about music for me and when I thought I was so totally lucky to get paid for selling and enjoying music. M has been able to keep the love of it more than I have. I think by the end I was really burned out by it all. Or I got old. Sigh. When I was there I was good. But then the nature of the business changed and a shift from Rock to Pop started. In the early days it was the manistreaming of electronica, and there was so much exciting stuff being done. I’d go out dancing with my friends, and the music would be great the whole night through. Again, it all got pop-y. A year after I started working at the store, this club opened up in Kingston that was like heaven and home for 4 years. During the last year the management realized they’d make more money playing pop music, but before that it was cool. A different place to go and not have to worry about having your vibe broken by crappy tunes (except for when they’d do the set of “Home for a Rest” followed by “Laid”). Maybe that’s part of why I don’t go out anymore. It’s just not worth all the hassle to go somewhere to hear bad music all night.

Those were good and bad days. Everything seems awfully dramatic in retrospect and I have to laugh at myself a little when I think of them. As I was falling asleep last night I was wondering what it would be like to travel back and observe. I wouldn’t do anything differently, since that would change the present and I like the present and we all know that changing the past creates quite a connundrum in plot lines (part of why M hates time change plot lines). I guess there are a couple of things I’d do differently with my present knowledge, like take my education a little more seriously, instead of assuming that most of my profs had nothing to teach me and deciding to largely teach myself (sometimes with great success, other times not so much), I’d have eaten a little less poutine, been less shy and a bit more sure of myself and I would laughed at situations that I thought were just SOOOO important when I was knee deep in them. These are the lessons that you learn growing up. No regrets, I just wonder why I was so determined to do things the hard way. Actually, I have one regret. I regret not learning to stop making sacrifices earlier. (Did that make sense?) Those got me into a lot of trouble and had almost no positive impact on my life. What matters now is that I have learned.

Anyway, the movie was fun. And I’m thinking about the good parts of the past, and happily there are lots of them.



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