The Listening Chair - Power of Threes

I hadn’t been to a concert in a long time, and over the summer I had the good fortune to go see Imogen Heap play the Roundhouse in Camden. You know who she is, she did that song that they used in The OC. Since then she wrote a song called The Listening Chair where she set up a listening chair to find out from people what song still needed to be written. She heard from people of all ages wanting to hear about all different kinds of topics and in the end she decided to write a 5 minute song with one minute representing seven years of her life so far.

Let’s call it inspiration versus blatantly ripping off an idea (as I am giving credit where it is due) that I want to write about periods of my life that also fit (and could give clues to) my type-A pattern-loving self.

3²

One of the joys of being born in March, other than being a Pisces, means that you get to experience both grades at the same age (sorry latter half of the year). A very distinct memory I have of the fourth grade was one day the entire class had to take a survey about pop music and what everyone’s favourite song was. For some reason the song that sticks out in my memory is Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Deep Blue Something. Odd since at that time I knew nothing of Truman Capote, Audrey Hepburn or the robin egg blue box at that time. More of what I remember is being ratted out by the kid who sat next to me (couldn’t tell you his name) because I wasn’t participating in the poll, but instead was reading a book (also escapes me what book).

Come fifth grade, I had moved to a new school where they had classes for kids who were intellectually gifted. What is that, you ask? Well, it’s where they put kids who were so bored in class they read extra books to pass the time. And it is here where I found my absolute best friend and constant companion in life: sarcasm. We’ve been together so long, I don’t know where I end and sarcasm begins. My mother had to go to a parent-teacher conference because (and I didn’t even know I was doing it) I was rolling my eyes at my teacher. Poker face, to this day, is still not something I possess.

3 x 2 x 3

Common to some Canadian university experiences, I moved out into a student house with a bunch of people I didn’t really know and had one of those textbook bad experiences: hoarding toilet paper, sink full of dishes, passive aggressive notes – it’s a wonder I actually detest living alone to this day. You’d think I’d be scarred from that. Eighteen was also a magical time where I would actually get up at 7 am without a trace of a hangover. Those were some days.

I’ll never forget my last day of being eighteen. The drinking age is nineteen where I lived, so it was the last day with my fake ID. Somehow I got the only non-racist bouncer who in fact did not think that all Asians looked the same and wouldn't let me in. No matter, the next bar thought Janice Lui and I looked exactly the same. I got called home before last call that night because our house (dysfunctional as it was) was broken into sometime between pre-drinking and pre-last call. I was devastated. My parents bounced in the next morning visiting from the homestead, a three-hour drive away that I considered a safe distance, armed with a birthday cake and couldn’t process when I announced that the house had been broken into and my laptop had been stolen.

Dad: Why wasn’t your computer with you?

Newly minted nineteen-year-old: I was at a bar!

Dad: So?

3³

Exponentially older than the girl who got called out for reading in class, in a stark contrast I don’t read books for pleasure much anymore. That’s actually something I stopped doing around eighteen, as I decided that I couldn’t read fun books if I wouldn’t read my boring textbooks. I don’t think eighteen-year-old me fathomed what twenty-seven year old me would be like. When I was about nine, I thought twenty six was the ideal age to get married. Sorry kid.

But no expectations lead to openness and possibility. I also never thought I’d live in London or Johannesburg, so I guess instead of being in two grades I can live in two cities while the same age – that works for me. It’s been a life quite ordinary thus far, I’ve never won any super special prizes or been in the papers, but all I can do is do the best with what I’m given. I for sure can’t tell you what 3⁴ looks like nor can I tell you what 3 x 2 x 3 x 2 is going to look like either, but whatever happens, I’ll keep listening.