Let’s get nostalgic.
One of the best things about spring break is always heading home, unless you’re one of those people who tends to opt for a more eventful week trying to piece together what happened the previous night ... and the night before that ... at Panama City Beach.
As for me, I’m down with the Netflix-in-bed life. (I swear this column is not a Netflix endorsement, just written by someone who has a weird affinity for Sister Wives and appreciates its constant availability at my fingertips.)
Going home is always like stepping into a time machine. Unless your parents have decided to renovate your room into something more useful than an embarrassing time capsule of your high school years, it probably looks the same as it did the summer before you left for college, which is a little unnerving.
But the memories. Dear Lord, the memories.
The bulletin board above my desk that I’d been updating dutifully since I was a wee lass up until the time I graduated high school still exemplifies my 17-year-old tastes to a scarily accurate degree: Kurt Cobain; many, many cats; and pictures of people I haven’t talked to in a good year and a half, who, at one point, were some of the most important in my life.
Ah, old photos. Those are always a real kicker for me. Anytime I’m feeling down I just pull up a bathroom mirror selfie from eighth grade and thank every conceivable deity that I no longer have blonde streaks in my hair and ill-fitting Abercrombie jeans.
Another one of my favorite things to do when I’m home is sit down for a few hours and read my old journals that span from second to fifth grade. Realizing I’ve always had a smart mouth is something that never fails to amuse me and remind me that we’re all fundamentally the same at heart as we were at age 10.
Yesterday was one of my best friends’ 21st birthday and it’s still blowing my mind. I remember when we would walk to her house after we got out of middle school, watch Anastasia and play ‘The Sims’ for hours. Thinking back on these seemingly insignificant memories conjures up a single tear to my eye, akin to the Native American’s in the 1970 Earth Day commercial.
It’s fun to delve into your past from time to time. As long as you remember it’s just that — the past.
Here’s my advice: take a day to remember who you used to be, embrace it and accept your previous shortcomings with grace. Look at how far you’ve come from the awkward adolescent you once were.
See? Things aren’t so bad now.
Then, don’t change out of your pajamas, eat some Cap’n Crunch and watch The Brave Little Toaster and pretend, just for a little while, that you have no responsibilities again, because we all need to do that from time to time.
Cortni Dietz is a sophomore studying journalism at Ohio University and a columnist for The Post. What do you reminisce about? Email Cortni at cd509910@ohiou.edu.
