So last night Byron and I went to the movies for the first time in a while. We saw Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. I find myself forgetting that I'm one day shy of 31 because I have a big crush on this Michael Sera guy. The movie was great. I think it is on its way to cult classic status, if I'm cool enough to project. In fact, I picture myself and Byron with our own ackward yet eccentric teenagers confused and a little embarrassed that, yes, their parents saw that movie way back when they were not quite the young in the know indie rock loving hipsters but not yet parents. Even if Byron and I asked each other "Is Who's Fluffy a real band?" Neither one of us has a clue. What the hell is a Moo. I think it's a term of insult. Beat's me. Bottom line, this movie put me in my place. I ain't 19 anymore. That's okay. But boy did I get a flashback to being the slightly paranoid and responsible type. The one who would really just rather sit in the back and have one decent conversation about something or another somewhat "deep". Oh yes! Cringe here.
Really though. I get it. I remember my youth. I remember those moments - nights - of meeting someone for the very first time and talking, laughing, connecting, and wondering through the night until finally, together, you witness proof of a new day. You hear the first tune of the morning song bird. The soft yellows replace the indigo and violets of the horizon. You leave each other wondering what were those last ten hours all about. Changed. Hmm - that's good stuff. I'm a lucky girl.
