And, actually, I have an iPod playlist called "Remember college? I remember college." And yes, Bad Ronald's on there.

We drove home from Target tonight after spending 10 minutes debating the color of new bathroom rugs (we went beige) and what kind of shower curtain would replace the one my germo-phobic self just couldn't handle anymore (we went with a white and green one). We also got a toilet bowl brush.

I mean, this is the kind of stuff Thursday nights are made of.

On Wisconsin Street by the university, we passed a group of college kids carrying a set of Polish horseshoes and another dragging what I'm betting was a sticky-topped makeshift beer pong table from a typical college house. In college, I would've been jealous of that house, comparing it to my economical apartment. Now, I'm kind of annoyed by it.

My heart sank.

I don't want to play beer pong. I don't want to play knights of the round table or kings or even ride the bus. I don't want to listen to loud crappy music or drink flat beer in a stuffy house.

But I just wish I didn't feel so much joy out of having a new shower curtain and a bathroom rug. It's kind of jarring, because a few years ago, I was that girl tripping on her flip flops in the yard with a red Solo cup between my teeth while I threw ping pong balls into other cups across the table, listening to Bad Ronald. Seriously.

Furthermore, I've rarely felt too incredibly old til that moment, when I looked at Me A Few Years Ago stumbling in the yard, because my old-lady thoughts weren't "wow, remember college? Sigh. I remember college." They were more like "I'm glad I don't live by such hooligans now. I don't want their Fergie and empty red Solo cups in my space."

Sigh.