i locked myself out of the house this afternoon, a typically absent-minded thing for me to do. but it wasn't the worst thing that could happen: the library is a short eight blocks from my house, and it was a lovely springlike day.

i left the library when the high school let out because my brother (and more to the point, his housekey) would be getting home about that time, and had to pass by the high school on my way back. i can tell you that is an incredibly surreal experience: walking past your alma mater at the end of the school day, only two years removed from it yourself. i couldn't have looked any older than the students, yet i felt infinitely more mature. i could remember how i felt in their shoes, but not strongly enough to be drawn back into it. all the cliques were familiar, though i recognized none of the faces. i remembered the awkwardness, the out-of-body experience of feeling one way, pretending to be another, and longing to be something else entirely.

as i walked down the sidestreets past the school i knew there was a time when i would have been frightened of the boys saying 'fuck' and smoking across the street, disdainful of the freshman boys i strode past but happy to have someone to feel superior to, and tempted to strike up a conversation with the quiet girl a few steps ahead. i would have been mortified to be seen in my bulky columbia coat and overly conscious at every corner: whether to wait for the car to pass, trudge defiantly in front of it, or passively cross behind it. i watched as a man tried to restrain his dog from jumping on the quiet girl and laughed when he passed me, said, 'friendly dog, huh?' where before i would have avoided all eye contact. (of course, no high schooler would have said such a thing - it's too dorky for the talkative types and too talkative for the dorky types.)

now, for all intents following the same routine and path i would have two years ago, none of these things concern me. i simply exist. i didn't second-guess myself with every step i took, i didn't worry about how others might perceive me. i just walked as i would, hands in my pockets, enjoying a beautiful afternoon. amazing how much (in all the little ways) you can change in two years. and amazing how vivid it all remains.

can I blow this small town,
make a big sound
Like the star of a film noir postcard?
Can I just forget the frames I shared with you?

let's watch the tour bus stop and tell us
Here's the scene of a spring green life dream
Take the best part,
Write it in your caffeine diary

And that's to say, yeah I'm leaving
But I don't have to go there
I don't have to go to Spring Street
'Cause it's spring everywhere
dar williams