Memories

Recently over the last month, my school has been undergoing some construction projects. One of the buildings that is being remodled is along the way when I walk to my photography class. For a couple of days, they were tarring the roof. I am not a particular fan of the smell of tar. I find it repulsive and nauseating. However, during these particular days, the temperature was almost 90 degrees. I couldn't quite figure out as to why this particular combination of heat and the smell of tar was so familiar at the moment and it bugged me. I finally figured out why after a while. This particular feeling goes way back to when I was still living in El Paso, TX attending Carlos Rivera Elementary School.

Temperatures regularly reached triple digits in El Paso. Every morning before school started, we would line up outside in lines by our respective classes. Typically, if we arrive early enough, we would get to play around on the playground and stuff. Then, in the middle of the day, we would have our PE classes and it would be extremely hot. Mr. Vargas was the PE teacher and the only thing I remember about him is the hat he wore and the Coronado High School class ring he wore. Anyhow, our playground area surface was made out of tar and for the most part, it was just there. However, during these mid-day PE classes, it would be so hot that the fumes from the tar would start to rise and get into our noses. It was a very uncomfortable experience. Sometimes, it would get so hot that the tar would become soft enough to leave an indention. I find it quite interesting how just this simple smell of tar mixed with hot weather would trigger all this old memories of when I was in first and second grade.

It's amazing how my family went from a place like El Paso to Vancouver, WA in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. I am thankful that my dad decided to take the job offer in Washington instead of the job offer in Arizona. I don't think I would have enjoyed Arizona.

Anyhow, I have finally finished my two-year stint at Shoreline Community College and am finally going to go back to a large university. I cannot stress how much I have disliked this experience. It was basically high school without any friends. Now that I am transferring, I will once again struggle to make new friends at a new place while continuing to lose old friends. I am confident that the experiences of these two years will somehow benefit me in the future, though I am struggling to see how it possibly can. Regardless, I am just relieved that this detour is finally over.

Everyone asks me if I am excited to be going somewhere new. In all honesty, I am. However, it is more of a reserved excitement with a cautious approach. Being excited has never done me any good and has at times made things worse when the fall out is not what was planned out to be. The more excited I am, the more disappointed I will be. Sometimes I wish things would just go back to being simple again like they were when I lived in Texas. Looking past the heat and the smell of tar, I was truly happy. Remembering that feeling of happiness makes me sad today because I don't remember the last time I was truly happy since I graduated elementary school.

Oh well, here's to a better and happier future.