Tuesday, September 23, 2008


I found these chat transcripts from when I was but the mere age of 18 and me oh me, me oh my, I was a very dramatic teenager. I'm not trying to hate on my past self but goodness I don't even think I liked ostriches or camels back then, and basically these days that is a pretty big deal for me. Man these days I even think walnuts are funny. WHAT IF I GO BACK TO MY TEENAGE WAYS. All whipping out band names all the time and telling everyone that life is the worst thing ever, just grump all day in the corner wearing black and saying really unbearable things just for the shock value! My heart palpitates at the sheer thought of it. However. From what I can tell, there are two things about getting older. 1) You will always be embarrassed about who you were, and 2) You get less embarrassing as you get older. It is a gentle and forgiving slope when you are in your thirties (man, last year I farted in a movie theater!). the transition from teenager to 20-something is far more violent (JESUS CHRIST I just remembered that night where drank 99 Bananas until I puked all over my crush's bed and then locked myself in her bathroom and cried myself to sleep!). Some might argue that the drama of a teenage life is desirable (the heaving bosoms! the urgent fumblings!), but nothing is worth going back to the melodrama, even if your nostalgia for that sort of thing has blunted the insanity of it all. To wit:

(midnight, on the weekend)
MOM: where have you been?
ME (clearly trashed): ...whatever, you don't care.
MOM: You need to show some respect!
ME: Respect is a weapon used by capitalists to suppress human thought! I'm an anarchist, mom!
MOM: I don't care if you're president! You're grounded!
ME: Anarchists don't get grounded! You are such a typical capitalist. Fascist.
ME: Why are you yelling? I'm not yelling. Let's be civil about this, fascist.

Seriously, halfway through reading my account of a tortured teenage life I cringed so hard that I flew back from my laptop and hit the wall.