My alma mater: thanks for the memories

Nostalgia can paint everything pink and glittery. I think of my time at the University of British Columbia as my carefree days–and compared to having kids I guess they were–but they weren’t really. Taking challenging courses and trying to find my place in the adult world, as well as navigating relationships with the emotional intensity of a teen aren’t easy things. I’m sure it was actually a difficult time. But, I was also finally free of the shackles of an all-too-tiny high school that had felt claustrophobic the entire time I was there, so the euphoria of being in a bigger, more exciting, and less cliquey, world probably helped make the experience seem wonderful.

Anyway, sparkling rose-colored lenses or not, the campus is simply beautiful (if not some of the architecture), and so I like to visit it every year that I go see my family. And the 6 people who read my blog get to see the sights, too!

I found my way to this spot often. Besides the color and fragrance of the Rose Garden, the view of water and mountains could soothe any soul.

Within the rose garden, you can find a specimen of the famed Mr. Lincoln variety.

Have you ever seen the episode of X-Files where there was a sniper atop a clock tower? Well, the clock tower in front of the Main Library here was what they used for the episode. In the foreground is a brand new space dedicated to the indigenous population of the area. Back in the early 1980s, it was mostly an unused area attached to the Sedgewick Undergraduate Library where I spent a lot of time both as a student and then an employee for a year.

Speaking of spending a lot of time, the Buchanan complex of buildings housed a number of my classes and I still occasionally dream of wandering around them. They’re drab and dreary, really, but anything set against an azure sky (and viewed with the aforementioned rose-colored lenses) can look quite lovely.

And lastly, there’s the Scarfe Education building. I had a locker there for the entirety of my time at UBC so I have a special fondness for this otherwise unremarkable structure. Also, the cafeteria in the basement made a delicious French onion soup. The Spousal Unit claims I only remember places by the food I ate there. That’s so not true, but if a place had good food, I’m bound to remember it more than somewhere that didn’t serve good food, or any food.

Where is a place of your heart that you keep returning to?

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