why don't we have friends like we did when we were 12 years old?

If you can name the movie that line comes from, well I just may have a special photo to share with you. Maybe.

In the past month or so I have found myself traveling back to memories of my youth. Not that my youth was particularly awesome in any way, shape or form it wasn't. It wasn't even a little bit stellar. There isn't enough money in the world for me to go back to my feelings of awkwardness and insecure junior high days. Well, maybe there is, but can I go back as the person I am now and slap that girl and tell her, "Hey, you'll turn out awesome, don't worry about it?" If I can't do that then never mind. I'll stay here.

However, what I have been harkening back to or songs, movies, words, feelings from high school and my early days of grunge.
Of movies by John Hughes starring Molly Ringwald and the others of the Brat Pack.
Quoting lines from, "Say Anything," a little too frequently for my co-workers.
I've been rummaging around in my car for my CDs of the, Violent Femmes, Mother Love Bone, Alice in Chains, House of Large Sizes, Madonna, Samantha Fox and laughing at the fact that I still know all the words to, "Ice, Ice Baby."

I've been thinking about me at 18 and 19 going down to the local grunge bar and listening to all the bands before they broke big.
Me there with my black dyed hair, floral skirt and over-sized message T.
Dancing and swaying, occasionally jumping into the mosh pit to the likes of, Smashing Pumpkins, Busker Soundcheck, Rage Against the Machine, Super Suckers. The night Alice in Chains made an unexpected appearance and Layne Staley made a drug deal with the guy standing next to me. (hello, predicted outcome)

To nights of sitting with friends smoking pot and eating everything in sight.

How reckless everything and I was and being so, so very thankful that I didn't hurt myself or anyone else.

House parties in my attic apartment. The cops being called, "several times" and the thought that perhaps having 100 people in my 1 bedroom attic apartment seemed like the best idea ever and the fact that perhaps I could annoy, disturb and wake-up my neighbors never even entered my mind.

To being young, dumb and 21. Life was forever and I lived it like I truly would live that long. Nothing could stop me. Nothing could or would get in my way. Those rain forests? I was going to save them single handedly. Yes-I-was.

Friends were single and baby and kid free. I could call them on a moments notice and they were always ready to go out. Didn't matter what they had going on the next day. Who cared if I had to be work at 4:30 in the morning. I would just pull an all-nighter. No big deal. Not a big deal at all.

Family obligations? Who cared if you showed up hung-0ver. It was expected and laughed about.

Bad fashion, bad hair.
Big fashion, big hair.
Bright fashion, bright hair.
Dark fashion, dark hair.

Shoulder pads and winged out, sun-in, permed hair. (light brown hair)
Floral skirts, message t's and combat boots. (black hair)
Tie-dyes, black tights and converse all-stars. (black hair)
All fabrics flammable. (pick a color, any color, hair)

Frat parties, house parties, after hour parties.
The only thing I cared about when last call was shouted was asking the bouncer, DJ, bartender, "Where's the after-hours?" and then going.

Unprotected sex. Because who knew, who cared? The only thing to worry about was an unplanned pregnancy and I was well covered. Friends were HIV/AIDS free.

Walking into my first apartment everyday and realizing it was mine. Those keys belonged to me.
So did the bills.
The move? Two trips and three hours is all it took to move my stuff.

Discovering the gay bars and all the fabulous gloriousness. What got me out of grunge? Gay men. Straight clubs? Please, give me the gay bar every weekend, please!

The power of my first credit card. The foolish idea of believing I had the power when it came to my credit cards.

Three part time jobs could cover everything.
Waitressing was an awesome job.

My '76 LTD that said, "The lil S.S. Minnow" on the back of it and my gas tank that said, "feed me, feed me" with it's white metal exterior and red vinyl interior with an A.M. radio that could hit a concret bridge embankment and take a chunk out of the cement, but not even scratch the car, was totally kick ass and I still miss it sometimes.

Being able to fill up your car for $10. $10, even.

Friends were friends for however long. They moved, they married, they had kids, they grew-up and no longer had the time to go out and 10 became a late night because they had to get home for the baby-sitter so she could go out.

The friends I had at 21? I still have a few. However, we've grown-up. We have to make plans well in advance now. We're no longer available on a one phone call notice and the fact that we will all be going out on the weekend is no longer assumed.

I love where I am.
I wouldn't change a thing.
However, that girl at 19, 20, 21, 22-26? She still has a soft place in my heart. A soft, fond place in my heart.