On savoring youth & winter

Winter is so cozy. Slow, dreary and cozy. Coffee and umbrellas and wearing wool sweaters always make sense. I know soon I'll have to figure out what I'm doing. Plan out my next steps and start putting them into motion, but not for now. For now I will continue sleeping in too late, reading, cooking, and enjoying cable television. For now I will continue living paycheck to paycheck, [and only worrying about it sometimes], continue to fill my lungs with crisp cool air, go on long walks and write letters to friends far away. For now I will just enjoy living life young, and care-free before the hard stuff comes my way. I know it will eventually, I just want to make sure I've lived enough to welcome it.

On missing creaky bunkbeds.

Do you ever find yourself missing strange things? Like the sound of the creaky bunkbeds from the summer camp you went to as a child, or the smell of cigars and air freshener in the back of your grandpa's semi truck? Like the way it felt when you got your cartilage pierced, or the way your mother's robe felt against your tired skin when she embraced you in the morning? Like driving in an '88 Buick on the interstate, listening to the Matches and not being sure if you'll make it to your destination or not? Like family vacations where your dad picks up smoking again and your sister tours rest areas and you play the license plate game?

Maybe it's just me.