Standing on your mother's porch, you told me it would last forever

I'm so nostalgic lately. For like, everything. For college, of course, for Dime and fraternity parties and the days when I didn't drink and when I had more than one group of friends and no responsibilities and when getting a good grade was the height of my academic concerns. And for every summer of my life, with family vacations of varying successes, and working at Alapage all alone in Nashua waiting for Jeff to come in and pick me up so we could adjourn to The Garden, for driving along the coast on Rt 1 all the way from Hampton to Portsmouth, for being so unconcerned with everything.

I'm even nostalgic for high school, maybe that most of all, actually, because what I really miss is that sense that the world is amazing and that the simplest things are worth being excited about. For example, I remember being excited - SO excited - about chorus concerts. Chorus concerts were the shit. You dressed up, people looked at you, I usually sang a solo which was SUCH a big deal, you were with your friends at school late and night and could run around the halls even though you weren't supposed to, and afterwards someone's parents would lend them the car so we could all stay out late and eat ice cream at Blake's. When I started dating Mike I'd go out with him and his cool jazz band friends after shows, and *then*...then I would really feel cool. 

...I digress. The point is, nothing like that happens anymore. I don't feel like that anymore, even about the things that I probably could, if I was feeling more like myself. I know I still have it in me to feel wonder and giddiness about my life, it still happens every once and awhile. But man...when I was young it happened *all* the time. Going out with boys. I remember when going out with boys, going *anywhere* with boys, was monumental. The mall, the Garden, the movies, the park. I remember when going to someone's apartment was the most incredible thing in the world, because who lived alone? No one! I remember...

I remember being young. And innocent. And untarnished, and unjaded, and when becoming cynical was my biggest fear because my father told me that was something you never wanted to be. If I could add one thing back into my life, it would be that sense of wonder, of newness, of novelty. That's why it's so hard to convince myself the best days are yet to come - it's because no matter what happens, I won't feel about it like I used to. Or at least, right now it seems like I won't. But I supposed there's always hope.

...anyhow. The real reason for this post is that I think I have a topic - and argument! - for my Sister Carrie paper. More research is needed, but I'm feeling good.