upset
today, a colleague of mine whom I was giving a ride to carelessly shoved his very heavy toolbox onto my longchamp planetes tonal and onto the floor of my car. I didn't know it since I was seated in front (he was putting his purchases at the back of my car). Now the bag is covered with deep heavy creases all over and some minor discoloration where the creases are.
I was really upset, because it represented all that I missed in Boston, and it took me several years to finally decide to get it, in part as a remembrance of a period of my life. I miss living in the heart of the city, popping over to Levenger @ the Pru, walking down Newbury Street, having a cuppa at Stephanie's, swinging by Boston Common for a bit of a stroll in the summer, and walking pass the ubiquitous longchamp totes and chanel flaps that was to me, the national uniform of Boston. When I took it out and about town with me, it brought back memories of the years of my life in Boston, and brings about a certain wistfulness for what I once had, but in which now lives on only in memory. I don't get to carry it here as often as I want, since where I live now is a lot more laid back, but bringing it out once in a while brings back a little joy and a smile to my face, because it is a reminder of the slice of city life that I miss so very much.
That I was very careful with it precisely because of what it meant to me, and for it to be so carelessly damaged by someone else is what breaks my heart. It may be just a bag to some, but it was more than that to me. It felt as if the symbolism of all that I missed has been marred, and when I look at it, instead of evoking fond memories, all i see are just the ugly creases and damages inflicted all over what once was.
I was really upset, because it represented all that I missed in Boston, and it took me several years to finally decide to get it, in part as a remembrance of a period of my life. I miss living in the heart of the city, popping over to Levenger @ the Pru, walking down Newbury Street, having a cuppa at Stephanie's, swinging by Boston Common for a bit of a stroll in the summer, and walking pass the ubiquitous longchamp totes and chanel flaps that was to me, the national uniform of Boston. When I took it out and about town with me, it brought back memories of the years of my life in Boston, and brings about a certain wistfulness for what I once had, but in which now lives on only in memory. I don't get to carry it here as often as I want, since where I live now is a lot more laid back, but bringing it out once in a while brings back a little joy and a smile to my face, because it is a reminder of the slice of city life that I miss so very much.
That I was very careful with it precisely because of what it meant to me, and for it to be so carelessly damaged by someone else is what breaks my heart. It may be just a bag to some, but it was more than that to me. It felt as if the symbolism of all that I missed has been marred, and when I look at it, instead of evoking fond memories, all i see are just the ugly creases and damages inflicted all over what once was.