But I would kill for my high school butt.
My sister and I were looking through old pictures this morning (bad idea, captain), and now I am sort of melancholy. Not because I want to go back in time--that would be weird, and, honestly, if I could go back in time, I would go back to see Cleopatra and Caesar, or F Scott Fitzgerald, or the defeat of the Spanish Armada... Why spend all that cosmic energy to go back fifteen years?
That said, I do miss the girl I was ten, twelve, fifteen years ago. She had heart, and she was brave. I have a more diplomatic face now (I've been practicing, so I'm not quite as unhinged in argument), but I am pretty sure I've lost heart over these last few years. I guess that happens.
And now for something completely different: