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Mar. 14th, 2006 @ 02:18 am dancing on the brink of time
Current Mood: unbearably pretentious
Current Music: Green Day - Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)
I've been watching terrible '80s music videos to cool off from the Writing Madness. Some of them--A-Ha, pre-creepy Michael Jackson, early Weird Al--have an earnest, unironic charm to them that you don't see much these days. A misguided charm, sometimes, and silly by modern standards, but it was a can-do decade, and their spirit is contagious. Others--Vanilla Ice, MC Hammer--evoke no reaction but stupefied shock and disbelief. It's hard to believe I was born into the decade of parachute flares and neon orange bell bottoms.

I often wonder what it would have been like to have been born in a different decade. What would I have been like if my mother had had me ten years earlier, instead of miscarrying my older sibling? Would I have a closer relationship with my cousins, who would have been the same age? Would I have spent my early days playing Atari 2600 and bitching about my life to people on Usenet? Would I have been shot down by girls in ripped jeans and bell bottoms? Would I have gone to Oberlin at the end of one of the greatest periods in our school's history, and witnessed the end of the beginning of the activist culture that continues to define us today?

It's strange to think of this, because it would be so different and yet so similar to the way things are now. My nine-year-older cousin Serena gave me an early glimpse into that world--an adolescent in a world defined by, around, and in opposition to adolescents--and I've been curious about it ever since. Shame that by the time I became an adolescent myself, that culture had already degenerated into a sick act of self-parody. (Gotta love the '90s, with its stupid corporate-pop bands and its meaningless questions of cultural authenticity.) The rise to adulthood was a refreshing change.

Which brings me to something else I've been thinking about for a while: I love this decade. I am so happy that I get to be a young person in America in the midst of the double-ohs, or whatever this decade is going to be called. This is the decade of webcomics and Homestar Runner and black leather and indie rock and spaghetti straps, and I'm enjoying every minute of it. We're riders on the crest of a post-irony wave of cynical idealism, a generation sick of apathy and tired of greed. The dying horse of '90s postmodernism has whinnied its last, and we're ready at last to make new and interesting things without fear of ridicule. So many great musicians are in their prime--Muse, the Decemberists, Eminem. So many old things, like swing and fencing and tabletop, are new again. It has once again been trendy to read. And the women of this generation--oh man. Maybe it's because I'm in their peer group, and therefore are subject to the same cultural forces that I'm subject to, but there's something indescribably amazing about women my age, a sort of quiet energy, that I've never seen in a older or younger woman. Not to mention that I am going to miss the hell out of tank tops and spaghetti straps when the Great Fundamentalist Revolution puts Victorian hoop skirts back in fashion.

Going to miss everything, really. Watch what happens when this decade ends, if I'm still around. I'm going to be so cranky and nostalgic about the good old days. My kids, if I ever have them, are going to roll their eyes every time I talk.

*The first being the years leading up to the Civil War, when we were a station on the Underground Railroad.
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Mar. 14th, 2006 @ 01:14 pm today is pi day
Current Mood: frazzled
Current Music: Hard 'n' Phirm - Pi
3.14 PI.

At 3:14 the math department is serving PIE.

In King.

That is all.

(edit) How can I not mention the Pi video on Pi Day?
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Mar. 14th, 2006 @ 11:29 pm for the love of all things that are orange
Current Mood: tiredsleepy
Current Music: The Band - The Weight
Why am I so tired?

I mean, I did spend all day working, but it's not like this is the first time I've done it. And I've taken breaks every few hours, and I try not to push myself too hard on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. I'm halfway through my usual grind this week and already I'm getting sore in my wrists and finger-joints and the sides of my hands.

Is it really only 11:27? Fuck. It feels like two in the morning.
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