I'm using my Mum's minivan for a vehicle while I'm home. Charlottetown recently got a public transit system, but it doesn't yet run "across the bridge," in Stratford, where my parents live. Mum's van doesn't have a CD player, and only a cassette deck. This is fine, really, because all my CDs are back in Kanata. Almost all my stuff is still in Kanata. (It seems this will be the year I'm cursed to live out of a suitcase.) My vacuum cleaner and squash racquet are in Hamilton, but otherwise, my kind aunt and uncle are harbouring almost all my other worldly possessions.
I scrabbled in the top drawer of my abandoned bureau to find some old tapes so I could have something of my own to listen to while I was driving. I was driving home in the warm rain this evening with one such tape playing. A familiar song started and I furrowed my brow. What song is this? I know the singer goes "Ahh" right... now.
Grinning wide, I realised I was singing along to "MMMBop" by Hanson. I turned it loud and continued singing along. Then I screamed along. Then I rewound it and took a detour on the way home (even though gas is now 101.8 cents a litre here) so I could listen to it again.
I dove head-first into a little nostalgia. It was comforting, but also a little lonely. I haven't really dissected why yet. I might in bed tonight. I can hear my Mum and Dad having late-night confabs in their bedroom every night at about 1am. Is this habit or design? Why every night? What do they possibly have to say to one another at 1am that they couldn't say after watching Jeopardy? I kinda think it's sweet. I could easily crack my door and listen in, but the idea of them having a sweet, private conversation after 28 years of marriage kinda makes me feel very contented. Oh, and of course, the obligatory loneliness again, but most subjects come 'round to that conclusion. I dunno - instead of being down about it tonight, I think I'm in the mood to revel in how bittersweet lonliness is. The end.