i thought i liked twenty-one best. then i turned twenty-two. clearly i was stuck on seventeen for awhile and then nineteen rolled around with all its perks but was never truly fabulous. i think i like twenty-two. it is an odd calendar year this year. those are always my best years. perhaps not. i have only been keeping track since about two-thousand-ish. the first part of the last decade is kind of a blur. two-thousand and five. growing up is daunting and i am not particularly partial to it but, having just gone through six years worth of pictures and stories, i think i like twenty-two best. maybe next year it will be twenty-three i like best.

she said that if you only keep people around to remind you about the times that were, you really are not getting any benefits at all. she was not talking about me, rather, she was talking about herself. so and so is doing this now and oh gosh did you hear about this person doing this thing? if we are not growing up together, then why should you be kept around at all if you only want is to remind me of what was? we are different now. it is not a shun or a goodbye, it simply is. she said this to no one is particular but it was striking. what is nostalgia worth?