Skorts + Sno cones

I came across this picture today (thankfully social media didn’t exist when I was in middle school, so pretty much none of that experience was documented like it is for people now) and I just want to be this girl wearing a skort at Adventureland again.

You know…when feeling grown up meant getting to wear mascara and shaving my legs. When being independent was about getting rides from friends instead of my parents. When socializing involved rollerblading to get sno cones and jumping on a trampoline, because no one had cell phones that did anything except maybe let you play Tetris.

You know…before any of the hard parts happen. Before girls get mean, before parents divorce, before you get your heart broken, before stress is a normal part of life, before best friends leave, before guys become assholes, before the debt piles up, before loved ones get sick and die, before the rejections. This girl hadn’t been touched by any of that yet.

I’ve been trying to remember what it was really like to be this girl, but all I can think of is that she could eat a lot of raw cookie dough and Doritos without gaining any weight and was good at Zelda. It’s insane how many days we live and don’t remember. I spent 365 days being 13 years old but I can only vidvidly recall a few moments here and there. Does this mean that 13 years from now I’ll only be able to remember a few moments from what is my now? 

Woah.

Well, I think I’ll keep up these nostalogia vibes by listening to Fall Out Boy’s Take This to Your Grave album.

Love,

Taylor

 

 

Say It Now

Today I got a message from someone who reads this blog and she said very nice, beautiful, articulate things. I don’t know her extremely well and she didn’t have to say them. She could have just thought them and kept them to herself and that would be fine. But out of nowhere she shared these incredibly encouraging words with me and it made my day. THANK YOU. You inspired me to write about something that has been on my mind recently.

“If I died unexpectedly would you get a tattoo to commemorate our friendship?”

I asked this half-jokingly to a friend of mine who said that yes, they would, and they even knew exactly what it would be! And what they said was perfect and sweet.

Which means at some point they have pondered my early death and what they would maybe do or say in response to it. 

I find this fascinating. I mean, I do it too. We don’t want to think about people we know and love (or just like) leaving us too soon, but it happens. Within the last week two twenty-somethings passed away tragically and suddenly. I didn’t know either of them personally, but we shared mutual friends and my Facebook feed was covered with people posting their thoughts, memories, prayers, and goodbyes. 

I wondered if I died tomorrow what kind of texts, emails, voice mails, wall posts I would get and from who? What would people say? How many-

“I wish I would have told you…”

“I wish we had spent more time together…”

“I remember when you…”

“I always loved that you…”

“I didn’t know you very well, but I…”

“I’m sorry…”s

would there be? So many lovely words written to someone who can no longer read them. But they could have read them. 

Why don’t we say things we love about people when we see them? Who cares if it “seems” out of place or awkward. If the girl I sit next to in class were gone-just like that, I’d want her to know that I love how she’s passionate about using recycled material in her work, I think she’s really smart, and she’s a beautiful person. Why don’t I tell her that? Shouldn’t we write or say those things to people simply because they are alive to receive it? 

Yes, we should.

So, go tug on someone’s heart strings. Or a few people. Or everyone in your contacts list. 

Love, 

Taylor