Uh, oh--introspective again.

Maybe it's because I should be prepping for class and I'm procrastinating again, maybe it's because 30 ain't getting any further away, or maybe because September really is a month full of weird anniversaries, but I've been thinking a lot lately about where I was when...
9-11: Six years ago. For some reason, this one seems like the longest ago. I think it's because I was in such a weird place. I was 23, I'd just dropped out of the MA program, and I was working at Fort Edmonton, a place that always felt like such a retreat (or an escape) for me. It was this really gorgeous day, and I was at work, and I was so grateful to be working there, and relieved because I'd made the decision not to do my Master's degree (at least not yet), and I was really, really worried about the future. I had no idea where I wanted my life to go, and I was so focused on just enjoying the now because I knew that, by the end of September I'd have to start making some decisions, and then all of a sudden, there was this major world event happening, only it didn't really change the fact that I was still me, and I was still scared, and I still needed a plan. And it made me feel really small and really self-absorbed and just a little ashamed.
Lady Diana dies: 10 years ago. I had just started University. I was out of Cold Lake (again) and I was so excited. And I realized for the first time that I wasn't as small-town as I thought I was when all of my Kelsey Hall floormates were stoked about the possibility of getting drunk. So somewhere (I don't remember where) I met these three English guys from another floor, and we went for beers. We were having a really fun time, and we drank way too much beer, then it was on the news that Lady Di was dead. We were all like, "Oh shit," but honestly, we were too drunk to do anything but have a good time. Then one of the English guys chose that precise moment to start hitting on me "You know you're pretty?" And I laughed, and he said, "No, I mean it, you're really, really pretty," and I thought, "Oh, shit, I guess I can't hang out with these guys after all," and I teetered my lonely way across the road to 5 Kelsey where most of my floormates were already puking. But I'd lived in France, and I was oh-so-sophisticated, and I knew that if you ever got drunk, you disguised it, and that anyone with any self respect never, ever vomits in public. And I didn't spend much time on 5 Kelsey that year.
The Winspear Opens: 10 years ago. Again, my first year at UofEh. I had met this really cool girl in my English class (I don't even remember her name now) and we started hanging out together. She was invited to the poshgala Winspear opening ceremonies, only she didn't wear dresses (ever) and wanted to know if I had a dress she could borrow. Well, my Aunt Debbie had given me this wicked vintage gown--very 70s, very funky, and I lent it to her. A few days later, this girl and I met for coffee, and it became clear that she thought we were dating. Particularly strange since she'd met my boyfriend. I made it clear with all the delicacy that a 19-year-old could muster, that we were just friends. Well, next English class, she's sitting somewhere else. And she won't talk to me anymore. Then she dropped out of school. And she kept my dress. A few years later, I ran into her again. She was working at Audrey's Books. I asked her about my dress. She told me she was sure she'd returned it. Either that, she said, or she'd thrown it out.
The Dawson College shooting: 1 year ago. Is it awful that I remember this terrible, tragic event, and all I can think is, "Holy shit, that was a year ago already?"
So I guess what comes of all this is, I'm the centre of my own little world. As if that wasn't clear enough already.