Nostalgia feels like indigestion.

Or that could be the calzone I ate earlier.  Just for those who don't know: it's not a good idea to eat that much calzone if you haven't eaten since the early morning.

So. Much. Calzone.

But anyway.  Nostalgia.  The pain and longing felt for experiences past.

I went to the Laurel Music Camp dance the other night.  The music was terrible (at a music camp, don't even get me started).  But I really missed actually being in high school and participating in musical ensembles with my horn and in my last year, the double bass that was bigger than me.

I avoid concerts now because it hurts to watch.  I miss playing my horn and being part of a group where I knew EXACTLY how I fit in. At least while we were playing.  I mean, it's written on the page.

But that's besides the point.

You know what kills nostalgia?  The feeling that new experiences are ruining the memory of past experiences.  Like horrible music at a dance where you first got to know your current boyfriend of 5 years.  (That's right--FIVE).

Horrible. Music.

Anyway.  It started with the "DJ" attempting to remix tunes that really just sounded like a CD skipping.

....and got worse from there.

Music kids love to dance.  They really do.  It's just that, some of the music was literally impossible to dance to.

Have you ever tried to dance to solo banjo played bluegrass style?
........of course not.

The sheer amount of slow songs was ridiculous.  For a camp that doesn't let boys and girls get close they certainly encouraged it with their music.

I finally tried to address it, but it was clear there was no saving it. I attempted to enjoy a small number of songs I could dance to....I could probably count them on both hands with some fingers to spare.

And then there was the dubstep.  The horribly bad dubstep (and unnecessary adjectives).

WOMP WOMP WOMP

The bass was dropped, and then dropped again, and then again down a flight of stairs for good measure.

Dear friggen....

...I can't even...

See the thing is, I wasn't wearing heels.  My feet shouldn't have hurt.  The way I work is, if I'm enjoying myself enough, I can dance forever.  My feet won't hurt for hours.  But if I'm just standing around...BOOM. Pain and lots of it.

And my feet hurt that night.

And I couldn't help thinking...didn't this use to be better?  More fun?  And exciting?

Was it me, or it, or simply that year's summer hits?
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Whatever.  Introspection feels like a tension headache.