an aunt and a cousin came to visit this past weekend to look at some schools. this girl was born when i was ten. can't believe it. and she will be starting college next year.

our most recent conversations skirted around the age-old question: does your undergrad even really matter?

this, and other more insightful questions regarding life experience, gender, and what to do when you despise your faculty advisor-- all made me yearn-y for those first years of school.

not sure why i covet that particular first-day-of-school-fear, or the nausea i associate with walking into a room of your peers for the first time, not knowing where you rank.

----

in an unrelated event, a friend who is only slightly older than me remarked last week that i wouldn't really understand nostalgia until i hit 30.

hah.

i wanted to tell her that going to four colleges and living in as many states and countries qualified me for a lifetime of mixed feelings and persistent remembering.

when i used to be a real writer, wasn't that my job?