Yes, okay, everything makes me cry lately. And yes, also, I have a really bad problem with nostalgia–I start to miss things, people, times in my life, and I convince myself that I will never, ever be/feel/act that way again, and I find it heartbreaking. This is despite all evidence to the contrary, and despite the fact that every time I’ve moved across the country (this would be time number three) I’ve felt this way for awhile. But this time, it’s harder.

I’m happy with the choices we’ve made (mostly). I’m happy with the decision to have the li’l parasite (mostly…uh, I’m sure I’ll be happy about it in the long run).

But God. Damn. Do I miss getting drunk on martinis with Bad Idea and making out in the doorways of closed liquor stores.

(I uploaded a Whiskytown song into the box.net widget over there, for your listening/weeping pleasure.)

(This post brought to you by pregnancy hormones, three months of sobriety, and MaggieMay’s vicariously delicious story.)

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