Letting Go

As the new year rolls around, ready to pounce on us like a LOLcat on a ball of yarn, or just any cat really, it's easy to feel both nostalgia and hope. That's what year-end festivities do to us. They make us happy, but they make us recall the year that's been, and sometimes the years before the last.

I appreciate nostalgia as much as the next person. In fact, just yesterday, I hung out with two of my friends from St. Justin's. It wasn't weird, but I think they felt that I changed. For one, they thought I was smart still. Also, they were in the midst of me and my brother, so we were singing a lot...Needless to say, it must have been an almost surreal experience for them. Then we watched Scrubs, and I think I fell asleep because I woke up to Samantha about to suffocate me with a pillow while Francesca (quiet Francesca!) was recording.

Thus, I am not unused to nostalgia, as few people are, since it visits us every day. We don't always see it, but it does. And for those of us that do see it, and dwell on it, I contend that it's healthier to let things go. This doesn't mean that we should forget what makes us who we are, but if we live our lives in regret, won't that impede our future? Won't that even impede our present?

We need to let things go. Even as a culture. We gotta stop talking about Michael Jackson's death and Tiger Woods's infidelity (for the first, it's been 6 months, the second, who really cares?). I know how hard it is to let things go. That baby picture of your ex, that letter you wrote to me when we were 14, that prom picture we took that hangs out behind my closet. These things don't have to be thrown away, no. But they do have to be removed from our subconscious so we can move on with our lives.

Regardless of our need to move on, though, I really hope you threw away my thong. Please. Just throw it away.