I fell asleep after ingesting: 36 chicken nuggets, 2.5 liters of white wine that was consumed out of a box,with a nifty little keg spout, one random blue pill, and the amount of tar used to pave small roads in New Hampshire via Newports.
I awoke, ingested some caffine to coat my stomach and hit the road to visit my brother up at UConn. No make up. Plaid shirt. Ponytail. Huge hungover sunglasses, (because a fabulous pair of sunglasses makes up for all other wardrobe failures) and hit the road with my best friend (in heels and D&G of course) and my daughter. In a matching plaid shirt and leggings. Because in my mind we're the same age. Both 16 lol. (I averaged her 5 with my eternal 26)
We arrive in Storrs Connecticut in a whirlwind of culture shock. My ever blackening lungs almost collapsed under the weight of fresh farm air, and healthy cow poop aromas.
My brother, aka "The Golden Boy" (who, amongst other things, is on the boxing team, the anchor of the campus news station, plays intermural basketball, has a 4.0 so far, amazing green eyes and can literally do no wrong in life.) is all too happy to see this motley crew arrive for him. Against the perfectly manicured campus background, we must have painted the most vivid portrait of reality he's seen in a while. We brought a little bit of home to him, and his new world.
The thing that hit me the most were all the beautiful kids. The beautiful, fit,happy blonde girls jogging around. The perfectly pec'd football dudes going to the gym. The optimism in my brothers voice as he gave us a tour. All those buildings, all named for people who have accomplished things I couldn't even dream up. All those books, study halls, happy happy shiny people.
But the girls. The damn girls stayed on my mind. I felt like an 86 year old pervy man, thinking "damn she must look amazing naked."
I haven't looked "amazing" naked in a minute. My body is struggling hard to maintain itself against the horrors of childbirth, Burger King and countless gallons of coffee injected, but it's loosing a slow painful battle.
I also haven't had their sense of optimism and hope in quite some time.
A lot happens in your life between 18 and 28. A literal decade of failures, triumphs, heartbreaks, lusts, regrets, embarassments, and on and on and on.
A decade of life that seperates the happy shiny fresh faced Connecticut girls, and the weathered, cold hearts of ours.
The four of us traveled across campus and soaked it all in. The future of my daughter,the past of me and Emily, and the present reality of my brohter.
3 different generations all together on Family Day.
I must say I was touched. As I sit here tired and lonely and ready to face yet another Monday in corporate wasteland, I will remember those happy blonde girls with their breast cancer awareness tee shirts. Bright little "save the tatas" pink shirts all skipping around campus. And I will try and save some of that energy in my pocket. For the nights like tonight. Where my own slowly sagging tatas need saving.
Stay young America.
I awoke, ingested some caffine to coat my stomach and hit the road to visit my brother up at UConn. No make up. Plaid shirt. Ponytail. Huge hungover sunglasses, (because a fabulous pair of sunglasses makes up for all other wardrobe failures) and hit the road with my best friend (in heels and D&G of course) and my daughter. In a matching plaid shirt and leggings. Because in my mind we're the same age. Both 16 lol. (I averaged her 5 with my eternal 26)
We arrive in Storrs Connecticut in a whirlwind of culture shock. My ever blackening lungs almost collapsed under the weight of fresh farm air, and healthy cow poop aromas.
My brother, aka "The Golden Boy" (who, amongst other things, is on the boxing team, the anchor of the campus news station, plays intermural basketball, has a 4.0 so far, amazing green eyes and can literally do no wrong in life.) is all too happy to see this motley crew arrive for him. Against the perfectly manicured campus background, we must have painted the most vivid portrait of reality he's seen in a while. We brought a little bit of home to him, and his new world.
The thing that hit me the most were all the beautiful kids. The beautiful, fit,happy blonde girls jogging around. The perfectly pec'd football dudes going to the gym. The optimism in my brothers voice as he gave us a tour. All those buildings, all named for people who have accomplished things I couldn't even dream up. All those books, study halls, happy happy shiny people.
But the girls. The damn girls stayed on my mind. I felt like an 86 year old pervy man, thinking "damn she must look amazing naked."
I haven't looked "amazing" naked in a minute. My body is struggling hard to maintain itself against the horrors of childbirth, Burger King and countless gallons of coffee injected, but it's loosing a slow painful battle.
I also haven't had their sense of optimism and hope in quite some time.
A lot happens in your life between 18 and 28. A literal decade of failures, triumphs, heartbreaks, lusts, regrets, embarassments, and on and on and on.
A decade of life that seperates the happy shiny fresh faced Connecticut girls, and the weathered, cold hearts of ours.
The four of us traveled across campus and soaked it all in. The future of my daughter,the past of me and Emily, and the present reality of my brohter.
3 different generations all together on Family Day.
I must say I was touched. As I sit here tired and lonely and ready to face yet another Monday in corporate wasteland, I will remember those happy blonde girls with their breast cancer awareness tee shirts. Bright little "save the tatas" pink shirts all skipping around campus. And I will try and save some of that energy in my pocket. For the nights like tonight. Where my own slowly sagging tatas need saving.
Stay young America.
Comments
Post a Comment