I always leave reunions with my friends feeling slightly nostalgic for the “good old days” when my biggest concern was whether or not I’d win “best costume” at a social or be able to afford the taxi ride home from the Palace.
In Knoxville, we were on a mission to find sweet Leah a date for the wedding. I’m not sure prowling the college scene was the best place to look – all we managed to do was sit in a corner talking about sex (at the bar where a server so kindly dubbed us the “margarita girls,”) sit in a corner talking about marriages (and the different ways they can fail), or sit in a corner talking about how we were jealous of the college kids that surrounded us (donning their tacky Christmas sweaters for a themed birthday party no doubt). I’m sure we were radiating an approachable vibe, what with my engagement ring and Taylor’s “come hither” hungry eyes.
Anyway, the point is – it’s funny how easily I remember those days that seem so far off in the distant past (even though they’re not too long gone). That inability to sleep during the week for trying so hard to remember (or forget) something that I drunkenly did over the weekend became all too familiar by the time senior year rolled around. What had I spent all those days doing? Those nights?
This weekend with Taylor and Leah, we not only embraced our college mistakes, we celebrated them. We allowed ourselves to acknowledge the inebriated and stupid versions of ourselves, and then banished them to a far-off universe where we can pretend they never existed. We cheers-ed to the sluttier days, the days of reckless abandon, going to the pool at 2:00 on a Wednesday afternoon, and flipping a coin for the price of a shot. We laughed at the scandals, the relationships, the loves that might have been, the philanthropies we don’t remember being at and the classes we never went to.
That powerade was the death of me.
And then we brooded. We complained about the high cost of living. The low wages for those who work in fields that better the lives of others. The need to be rich and successful versus the desire to be fat and happy. And I felt good because I’m not the only one who is clueless when it comes to what I want out of my future.