Ghosts Appear and Fade Away

Yesterday was a good day. One where I spent too much time on a bus, but a good time none-the-less. the fabled trip to Value Villiage finally took place. Some real prizes were found, but the best items were definitely the UTSC T-Shit that I purchased for two dollars and the police officer shirt, sans all badges. Hardcore.
We also went to Toy-R-Us. They totally had the Star Wars Action Figure spaceships that I want. They had the Republic Gunship AND the ARC-170 Fighter. Man, if I had money to burn, those damn toys would be mine, and the clone action figures to go with them. Alas, I figured eating was probably better for the time being.
The best part of yesterday was definitely a trip to York, though. Candice was having an Oktoberfest party for the heck of it, and I have to admit that I was intruiged by the notion of German beer and funny hats. It wazs really only one funny hat and Laker with duct tape labels that said "Swertsinmeiner" (or soemthing to that effect) in a hand that looked suspiciously like Candice's. There was also a nice Lightning Bolt behind the name - excellent artistic touch.
So, the night wears on and Candice's next door neihbour Christina joins us. I immedietly get the "where do I know you from" feeling. There is something incredibly familiar about this girl. She didn't go to my high school, but she was from my home town. It is slowly revealed through the night that we do in fact know each other through a number of people, but probably most importantly, James. The pieces all started to fall together for us as we began to realise that we have a lot of common friends - Jocelyne in particular. Before the end of the evening, Christina found a picture of me chugging Hobgoblin Ale on her computer - it was a picture taken in my basement, and the other James is definetly chugging a nasty beer in the same picture. It was great! Like meeting an old friend I barely knew I had. Definetly a highlight.
Which brings me to the covient Colin Hay quote that is the title of this blog entry. What with being at a party with Candice, a friend I've had since grade two, and meeting a girl I've known for two years, but forgetting that I knew her at Candice's house - and also when my housemate Rom from last year resilutely failed to awknowledge me as I walked past him the other day - all these sort of things make me think about how people drift in and out of your life so easily. Every once in a while I think about what happened to those people I hung out with in elementry school. Where is Vincint Grady these days, and did he ever build a robot? Whats Wojtec up to these days? Tisha? Robin? Ryan? Phil?
And its odd, you can run into these people later - say, at a bar in Wiarton, or at an indie rock concert in Walkertin and its almost like things haven't changed, you can talk, and remember the things that have gone past, and catch up - but things have changed, and often you end up imopsing memories onto this person who really isn't the same person anymore. Change is great, but what about those innocent memories of childhood? Sometimes It's good just to see a familiar face so you can realise that life goes on around the world and at home - in passing, knowing that the people you spent your formative years with are out there doing wonderfult things and facing terrible hardships, just like you. Life is all about learning, and I find it comforting to know that everyone has to learn.
Chuck Palahnuik's concept of single serving friends form Fight Club - people you meet once and talk to, people who you will probably never see again - this fascinates me. It's true, too. There are people you can connect with and talk to for hours, or just minutes, and feel like calling them a friend. And then you never see them again. Sometimes I regret this - there are people, I don't even know their names, and I feel like I should have got to know them.
So, to anybody I ever talked to just once, this is my apology. Should our paths ever cross again, I'll do my best to remember you and if possible make a next time for the encounters. And to those that I might not meet again, thank you, and I'm sorry.