Nostalgia

Remember when beer was such a novel thing that you had to talk about it how good it is on the bus?  I don't. But the young ladies behind me on the bus this evening were the poster-children for the newly 21 who struggle to name a beer that they like, but say things like "minimally hoppy" to describe their preference; they really should have considered going to college in Iowa if that is the case.  I was eavesdropping (and by eavesdropping I mean 'listening') to their conversations as I was reading a journal article (brushes knuckles on lapel) and felt compelled to take notes so as to record forever the things coming out of their mouths.  Things like, "I like beer that tastes like bread" and "I got another flat tire today, it's like the third one, and it just keeps going flat, I don't know what's wrong with it." 

It made my day, along with this gem of a text exchange between me and my boss:

Last night:
Boss: Let me know when ur avail again tmw to ck in
Me: Any time before 330 or after 7 is good

Tonight:
(my phone rings during class at 5:30).

Fin.

In all seriousness, what did make my day today was a phone call from my L'il Brudr!  It was only a few moments and I have never been so unable to think of things to say!  He sounds good, he sounds tired, he sounds like himself.  I think what weighs most on my mind is the importance of not forgetting that he is there: that every day when I do all of the normal, comfortable, luxurious things that I do because I'm not in a war, he is there. 

Ok, enough of the Dawson's Creek.  Just chillin' and eating chips and hummus for dinner.  Don't be jealous.