A Pang of Nostalgia

The trees have bloomed, people are outside (and happy), and there's life all over! I particularly enjoy seeing the birds again and all the various plants. Recently, a mourning dove has been seeking refuge near my bedroom window and wakes me with a beautiful song each morning. I haven't heard their calls lately, but I hope they're doing well.  I think there's a metaphor there... I was mourning a loss of someone I was in love with (we've just parted indefinitely for now...), and I finally got over them. Something like that; there's a reason I'm in tech and not in the arts. On my end, I've been doing so much better recently. Both mentally and physically. I think the seasonal depression is finally over, and I'm no longer moping about. This past winter has yielded a lot of personal growth and life experiences, and to be honest, I didn't think I was capable of feeling such emotions. To sum up this past winter and most of my life, honestly, I was in a d...

I've always enjoyed writing with pen and paper. A lot of my peers across multiple fields either lack notes or have converted to their digital counterparts. There's still something that feels quite novel when writing with pen and paper. In some ways, it feels so much more intentional and real to write things down. And sometimes, I feel like if it were important, it would be written down. Part of me believes it's just because it's something I've always done. Twenty-plus years of writing things down in pen and paper in school have conditioned me and been ingrained in me. You also can't do crazy things like draw absurd lines to link thoughts on a .txt file.  I find it ironic at times that I'm a software developer who still uses a notepad. Physical, of course, not the application. I also really enjoy flipping through old pages. My work notepad has notes from years ago when I just first started. I was still getting a foothold in my job, and I would write down docu...

I recently learned that my grandmother (mom's mom if that matters...) is going to be moving into a senior care home. As I think back on my childhood memories with her, there's always one thing that comes to mind. "Have you eaten yet?" I've always heard this question growing up, well, that's the direct translation at least. Whenever my mom was speaking to Grandma on the phone, she handed me the phone so my Grandma could say hello. That question was always the first thing she asked me. I was always really confused and taken aback by this question. No matter the time of day, I could always count on her asking me that question whenever we spoke on the phone. I never really understood the purpose of this question, and it seemed really random to me. I always chirped a quick 'yes' or 'no' and handed the phone back after an awkward pause and farewell. But as I've grown older and gained perspective about the culture, this question isn't really a...

I had a dream a few nights back, and I don't recall who, but someone asked me where I wanted to go. Not like a "where do you want to go for lunch" question, but more like a "what are your desires" kind of question. Where do you want to travel to? Where do you want to end up? Where do you want to explore? I'm a very indecisive person. So much so that I used to get analysis paralysis just deciding on what to eat for lunch. I remember when I moved out to live by myself, I had just gotten back from class and was starving. It took me two hours to look for a place to eat. I was mostly torn between trying something new or getting the best value, only to end up just running downstairs and grabbing Chipotle. But in this dream, my own imagination, I couldn't even conjure the name of a place. I haven't earnestly thought of the future, because I don't see myself sincerely having one. A few times, I've imagined myself running away from everything, a real,...

GHS. I have a friend who used to work night shifts at a hospital, and he'd do a 6 pm -11 pm shift. And while that sounds totally doable, this was on top of a semi-loaded course load and rotations at local hospitals that in themselves were already a full-time job. Every time I think about this, I am in absolute awe of his work ethic, but that's not the point of this post. In addition to the night shift, he'd also sometimes do a double shift, which would mean he'd easily spend 12+ hours and spend his whole weekend at the hospital. I remember asking, amazed and shocked, about the work he was putting in, but he admitted that at times he'd drive home when maybe he shouldn't have. I'm a bit of a worrier, and I remember being genuinely concerned and felt it necessary to text him to "Get home safe!" Eventually, whenever I knew he was working a night shift, I'd always be on alert around that time and remember to text him three simple letters a little be...

I often reminisce and wonder about the abandoned worlds that we left behind. Growing up in the digital age, all of my games and toys were digital-  all ones and zeroes on a screen. The only relics of my childhood are Pokémon cards, Bakugan, and a few consoles. But looking back, I find myself wondering what happens behind the scenes when we're no longer there. Somewhere, my Empoleon, who grew up with me, is sitting in a digital purgatory. I like to think of them as little digital pets, but they never show any signs of neglect. They never ask where I went or why I was gone. They just accept me as I am. To them, I'm now a completely different person. Logging back in lets you return to a version of yourself from before you ever had to really think about life. Before your first heartbreak. Before your first real job. Before the first time you earnestly thought of the future. Logging back in feels like stepping into a world left behind in a simpler time. And I think there's some ...