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( Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life) )
Am I the only person who thinks this is a happy and feel good song? I play that song when I'm feeling down about the good things that have gone wrong, gone away - the relationships that end, losing people to death or to distance - the pieces from my past I can't get back. I play it and I remember that I was happy at the time, that that which felt good once was worth it, just for that happy moment.
It's the song which says that it's OK if the guy you spent a night kissing on a sofa never bothered to call - there was still that wonderful evening when everything felt great. It's that song that says that never being able to go back to Nepal doesn't matter when if I close my eyes I can still see the Himalayas.
I sometimes suspect I may be hearing this all wrong, however.
Anyway. Back to reality. I'm home. I've had a good night's sleep and am now pottering around jet lagged to hell and back but I think mostly happy. It's odd. Australia almost feels like a dream in some ways - oddly unreal. I can't quite believe that it's Tuesday now, and on Saturday morning I was walking through Melbourne after a night of drinking and watching the sun come up. Foreign countries always feel like that - like they belong in a different world. I've still got a lot of bounce in my step, though, and a distinct lack of tension along my spine. I'm also pondering the extent to which I am a different person when I'm away from home. Mike's often said I was a lot more laid back in the US - he never really saw the KABOOM-y Sally until he came to visit the UK. How much am I shaped by my environment or is it just that holidays are easy places to be this more relaxed and cool person? Is it just a lack of pressure? Longer and more meandering entry later.
For now, lunch and then a food shop. Real life is waiting.
Am I the only person who thinks this is a happy and feel good song? I play that song when I'm feeling down about the good things that have gone wrong, gone away - the relationships that end, losing people to death or to distance - the pieces from my past I can't get back. I play it and I remember that I was happy at the time, that that which felt good once was worth it, just for that happy moment.
It's the song which says that it's OK if the guy you spent a night kissing on a sofa never bothered to call - there was still that wonderful evening when everything felt great. It's that song that says that never being able to go back to Nepal doesn't matter when if I close my eyes I can still see the Himalayas.
I sometimes suspect I may be hearing this all wrong, however.
Anyway. Back to reality. I'm home. I've had a good night's sleep and am now pottering around jet lagged to hell and back but I think mostly happy. It's odd. Australia almost feels like a dream in some ways - oddly unreal. I can't quite believe that it's Tuesday now, and on Saturday morning I was walking through Melbourne after a night of drinking and watching the sun come up. Foreign countries always feel like that - like they belong in a different world. I've still got a lot of bounce in my step, though, and a distinct lack of tension along my spine. I'm also pondering the extent to which I am a different person when I'm away from home. Mike's often said I was a lot more laid back in the US - he never really saw the KABOOM-y Sally until he came to visit the UK. How much am I shaped by my environment or is it just that holidays are easy places to be this more relaxed and cool person? Is it just a lack of pressure? Longer and more meandering entry later.
For now, lunch and then a food shop. Real life is waiting.
