When I was in high school, I remember doing a project for my Psychology class. My partner and I had decided to test a rudimentary form of altruism and to what extent it may exist in the general public. We dropped envelopes around all over town. Some near post boxes, some not. Some with postage, some without. And we subsequently would see how many of them we ultimately received in the mail. Some were simply dropped in the mail by kind passers-by. Others were picked up, given the proper postage and mailed. And so on and so forth.
Anyway, onto my current experience.
My senior year of college, during January of 1996, I went on a month-long trip arranged by our Classics department, to be spent in different parts of Italy. I was an art-history major, but managed to find a spot in this program, if only out of a desperate need to get to Italy. My eternal enduring love.
During this month, we were instructed to maintain a journal of our experiences that we would have to turn in at the end of the month, along with an additional project that was relevant to our experience in Italy. I ultimately turned in my journal and a small wooden sculpture that served double duty with a (go figure) sculpture class I was taking during the Spring term.
I go downstairs to get the mail today and find a large manila envelope addressed to me from the once familiar zip code of 55105 - the address for Macalester College.
Some person who now worked in the Classics department, came upon my journal from twelve years ago, tracked down my current address, and mailed me my journal.
Granted, it was only twenty-six days of memories, but still, so many that came flooding back in a way that photos can only glimpse without providing context.
It's been a bizarre evening for me. Thumbing through it, marveling at, along with how neat my handwriting once was (back when both hands worked) how different my perception of just about everything was. I also definitely saw the pretention in some of my entries. The concerted effort to sound more intelligent that I was/am. I know I do that still, but hell, what can you do?
In any case. It was so far out from expected. Just crazy. And wonderful.
Did you ever see the movie Amelie? When she finds the box of a young boy's memories and tracks him down to anonymously give it to him? I know this is nothing so profound as a childhood keepsake, but nonetheless, I have a great debt of gratitute to offer this anonymous benefactress.
Ok. It's been a long day.
And it's Truck Day! Equipment for Spring Training is on it's way to Florida for the Red Sox!
In case you were wondering, yes, I mourned for the Patriots' loss. But I'm over it and ready for a new season of baseball.