The ONLY thing you will see today that has nothing to do with Miley Cyrus

I like disposable cameras.

(*half of the people reading this blog post scoff and mutter, "hipster," before continuing*)

I know, I know, cameras have come a long way since the dinosaurs, and we don't have to pay eight bucks to see our pictures anymore, but disposable cameras are by and large money well spent in my eyes. Not only do they capture the frame right away, but nobody can crowd around after the picture to see what they looked like. Nobody is going to "need to retake it" because their hair was screwed up, or their belt was hanging weird. You just snap the picture, and be on your way.

I think about the things I have actual pictures of-- like Disney World and Macinac Island from when I was a kid-- and how the actual, solid pictures of those events seem to have engrained the memories associated with them in physical form, instead of on a tiny screen, and I can't help but wonder why we stopped doing that. It's like we forgot how much fun it is to reminisce.  Now we just see the picture right away ("Oh hey! Two seconds ago!") and blast it on the internet right then. Is that what memories are now? I mean, seriously, when I'm old and gray, Grampa JJ is NOT going to be sitting at a computer saying, "Hey kids, come gather around the Instagram to see these vintage photos of my childhood!"

I'm proud of the solid pictures I have. They're physical memories of the good times.

And right now? About to start my sophomore year at the University of Michigan, about to be working two jobs ($$), about to go on road trips and snowboard trips and Canada trips with my best friends... These ARE the good times. These are the memories I want to have in a picture book on the coffee table in the family room when I have one. These are the memories I want stuck to my fridge with a little camera magnet.

I'm going to Michigan Adventure tomorrow, moving into my first apartment on Friday, and going to Canada for my 19th birthday on Sunday. Michigan is playing Notre Dame for what may very well be the LAST TIME EVER under the lights next week. Six of my favorite bands are playing at the same concert in a little over a month, and a Macinac Island road trip is looking more and more likely every day.

You can be damn sure I'm gonna have a disposable camera through all of that.

And when all of it is over, and the pictures are developed, there will be a stack of never before seen, brand new photographs to open. You get together with your friends, you sit around with some music, and you open it to the laughter of "Oh God, my hair!" and "What were we even doing in this?" until the pictures become memories and the memories become stories all in the same night.

Best part? The imperfections don't matter. You could have the worst picture of everybody in the room, and it wouldn't matter. Upon opening the pack, every picture is already a fond memory. Every picture is already perfect.