I've been reading back some of my earliest entries on this blog, entries that date way back to April 2004, which sounds like a very long time ago but isn't, not really. After all, I have friends who I've known for 10, even 15 years. By April 2004, I'd already known most of the people I know today, safe mostly for friends I've met through work. A lot of them I didn't know as well as I do today - obviously - but it's interesting to realise the gradual tapering out of new friendships made as we, ahem, age, compared to the hike I experienced during my earlier years in Melbourne.

Surprisingly, those entries don't make me cringe. I sound... young, but in a very hopeful, youthful way. It was the voice of one who was continuing to develop her skills and her style as a writer, even as her perspective of the world was being sharpened and honed and constantly changed. It's been quite an interesting sidetrack down literary memory lane.

This sudden sentimentalism was further boosted by a gathering of primary school friends yesterday at The Curve. It was a small one, about eight of us, but it was great. Some of them I haven't seen since I left primary school at 12, others I've seen here and there but never really got round to having a conversation with. Yesterday, we did, and it was pretty cool. I always did have a soft spot for my Chinese-school roots.

I stole these off Chang Chang's (above, second from right) Facebook page. And speaking of Facebook, it's been heaps fun tracking down people there too. I just found an old friend from high school; it's been years and years since we spoke, and I can't wait to catch up with him.

What is it that makes me want to seek out people from the past as I get older? That makes me finally start to appreciate and enjoy time with family and relatives? That gives me a warm fuzzy feeling as we gather after umpteen years and sit around a table to make conversation? We weren't exactly best pals back in primary school or high school, and sure, the conversation probably did feel a little forced at times, (one too many pauses, the occasional awkward sips from our drinks), but speaking for myself, I had a good time. I hope they did, too.