miss

So here we are.

Here are some things that I miss:

record stores

the smell of mimeographed paper

handwritten letters

going to Dairy Queen after the chorus concert

trick-or-treating

the old porch swing

the thrill of finding a five-dollar bill in a birthday card

my grandmother’s cooking

not seeing any gray hairs when I look in the mirror

Here are some things that I don’t miss:

the school bus

the limited selection of Beta movies at the video store

garage sale Barbies

acne

the existence of Zima

standard-definition TV

gym class

freezer-burned fish sticks

the isolation of suburbia without a car

Here are some things that I will someday miss:

delicious victuals

naps

music

good, hard laughter

dresses that fit perfectly

walking in the city

my 11-inch MacBook Air

intoxicating fragrances

holding hands

Here are some things that I will not miss at all:

misogyny 

racism

cruelty

idiocy

intolerance

general crappiness

reality television

cellulite 

chest colds

But mostly, I miss the time before I started thinking about the things I miss and don’t miss... ironically, back when people called me “miss.”

Yes indeed. Welcome to me.