Chain Smoking and Boys

I flew into Austin Friday night to spend the weekend with my college roommate. I love her. She's like a sister, particularly when you consider the defining characteristics of a sister to be knowing terrible things about you (and being cool with reminding you of them) and the ability to nearly always make you laugh. Saturday we wandered through campus and stopped at the steps of our old dorm where we spent much of our freshman year chain smoking and talking about boys. This is how everyone spends that year, right? Unfortunately campus is smoke free these days, so we had to go elsewhere to chain smoke, but we felt like it was important to do, and so we did that. (Please note that I quit smoking thirteen years ago and don't plan to restart, but it was kind of a special occasion.) Also, the boys we talk about now are actually our husbands, so the conversations are considerably less angst-filled. Which is surprising really, because of course we talked about all the old boys too, and those conversations all included the lines "what were you thinking?" and "that guy was such an asshole" and "it's like you were trying to see just how much damage you could do to yourself" (please note that this last line was only actually ever said to me and the answer is, um, kind of a lot).

So yes, it's a little surprising that the boys we talk about now are kind of great. It was sort of a long shot really.