Nothing like the metaphor of going back to your past and finding it dug up to shit and completely ripped of anything like how you recall it.
I’m sitting in a bar that used to be an old favourite – about 15 years ago when I was a girl in my early 20’s. Now it’s sucked of character. Modern and unappealing.
There is more nostalgia in this experience than I can shake a stick at.
The important thing for me to think is that this experience (of attempted pleasurable nostalgia) does not replace the memories I have. There is a tendency (mine) to think it’s spoiled if it’s not exactly how I recall it.
Instead this experience (good or bad) triggers the old memories and they are all good! I can even remember what I was wearing once while sitting on this exact stool (because I looked smokin’ hot and I was having an awesome time with it).
As I recall it, I used that ATM to draw out $100 I didn’t have, so I could buy more strawberry daiquiris. And I was so worried about spending the money! Jeez I’m glad I did. Not a daiquiri in sight now x