I'm a hopeless nostalgic.  No, really, I am.  Don't get me wrong, I have no delusions about the past being glorious and perfect and all that rot.  But the bits I reminisce about, those bits are pretty swell.  This afternoon I was talking with Lori (well, we were discussing our children having boyfriends and girlfriends... yes, our 2-year old and infant boys and as yet unconceived girls) about my first girlfriend, way back in eighth grade.  It was so innocent, and, I don't know... cute.  We would hug, sometimes, and I think we even held hands once in a while.  Oh, and we sat together at lunch.  Yep, yep.

And it's not like I'm longing for those days to return.  I'm happy.  I love my family, I hate don't care for my job a whole lot but that's life.  I wouldn't change anything.

I just have fond memories.  I like having them.  I like remembering them.  That's what I think of as nostalgia.