Bubbling Nostalgia

I visited my brother for his birthday in East Lansing with my family today. It's home to Michigan State University, otherwise known as "the other university" in these parts (my mum's a UMich alum). As we were leaving his apartment and driving through the campus I saw an Espresso Royale! And just as I was yelling out, "Oo, Espresso Royale!" I saw Bubble Island! And just as I yelled out "Bubble Island!" I saw a bookstore that I almost mistook for the original Border's and I thought I was in Ann Arbor for a minute. Recognizing the tone of nostalgia in my voice my sister promptly told me to "talk normal" and shut up.

I realized then why it's so difficult to reminisce about TASP. It wasn't like a trip somewhere when afterwards everyone wants to see pictures and hear stories. No one in my house (or elsewhere, really) has seen my TASP pictures because they're just a bunch of shots of random unknown people and the occasional squirrel. No beautiful photos of the Summer Palace or Mt. Tai like my trip to China last summer. And no one wants to hear the stories because they just include weird words like "calipygian" and "musicking." The only person who's even remotely interested (besides the loving curiosity, feigned or otherwise, of my parents') is my guidance counselor at school, but even he doesn't want to hear about tapioca wars and salted mango ice cream. My mum needs some size C batteries for a flashlight, and immediately I think, "That's the size that was in the tape recorder I used when I interviewed Ken Fischer and Wadad Abed!" but I don't say that out loud because when I do everyone is quiet until my sister graciously breaks the silence with "That's great loser." No one here can share my memories, so the transition back into regular life is all the more painful and abrupt.

~Emma