The last couple days I've been feeling a whole lot of Nostalgia. It probably has something to do with my life being sort of boring. I know, you know, you read about it every day.
Yesterday it was the phone call. Today it was a photo. Miss J is probably the only person I know in the whole wide world who still has a regular film camera. She also does not have an e-mail address and has famously asked if our friends' computers "have the youtube." She finally took a roll of film from October-November to be developed and handed me the stack of glossy photos this morning. I went through and saw lots of photos from Miss A's birthday party and various nights out on the town. There were some pretty adorable photos of me with Miss P, some with the gingers, and then there was the photo of me with "The Crush."
I think this photo is from when we first hit it off. The first time we really talked. The first time I decided that I was enamored with him. The photo has a fairly high contrast, so our black shirts against the black background make just a few things pop: blurred neons in the background, our smiling faces, the screenprint of David Bowie on his t-shirt. It's a super adorable "couple" picture, even though we weren't a couple. That photo and one of me and Miss P sit on my desk at work starting today. How did I mess that one up? I was reminding myself today that he was sort of flaky and that I seemed to always have to make all the plans... I am probably only making this a big deal because I want to feel justified in letting things fade.
I need to quit this.
In other news, breakfast at 2:30am is awesome, especially when prepared by three excellent cooks/chefs. After a night of playing pool with Mr. CC and playing "Things" with Miss J, Miss M, Mr. JB, Mr. JM, Mr. EM, and Mr. HS, some of us continued on to Mr. JB's house to have a bite to eat. When I arrived at the house after closing the bar, I joined Miss M in watching as Mr. JB, Mr. JM, and Mr. HS all cooked a delicious midnight-ish breakfast of omelettes with various delicious fillings, topped with goat brie, and drizzled with an orange hollandaise sauce. I commented to Miss M that this is what I would like my life to be like someday, me sitting aside while three men run around the kitchen preparing gourmet meals. OK, maybe I'll just have one and maybe we'll share the kitchen duties, but I will certainly not share my life with a man who doesn't cook.