I’m trying to not think about how far away Starbucks is and how badly I want a Pumpkin Spice Latte, so I started reading back through this blog’s archives and my LiveJournal archives.
October is, perhaps, my favorite month. It’s firmly in fall and has all of fall’s best features. It’s gorgeous to look at and the weather is fantastic. Plus, there’s Halloween, which I love, and my birthday (also on Halloween).
30 days from now, I will turn 31. That number sort of hit me yesterday. I remember talking to a friend last year about turning 30 and she mentioned being totally cool with 30, but 31 kind of got her because she could officially say that she was in her Thirties. 30 sounds kind of cute and grown up. 31 is suddenly, “Oh, this shit is real, huh?”
Anyway, one of the best things that I’ve done in life is to start documenting it on the internet. Honest! I never could commit to a regular diary or journal, but for some reason the internet and I were likethis. Now I can check in with my former self whenever I want.
So, if you like, come check out some past October 1sts with me…
Last year, I was counting down to my 30th birthday. I’m so original.
In 2007, I was in the midst of a four-month long bad mood due to my work and school stress. I would never relive that semester, not for a million dollars. My only regret is that I was most certainly a horrendous bitch to everyone then.
When I moved over here to kdiddy.org, I wasn’t sure what to do with my Live Journal archives. Concerned about some of the things that I wrote when I was younger and not having any efficient system of weeding through past entries, I just made the whole thing private. Hopefully, I’ll get some time to really import everything that I want over here. In the meantime, here’s some cut and paste action for you.
October 1, 2006: I was recovering from one of my grandmother’s Ladies’ Luncheons…
I was taking the phone upstairs to the husband just now and passed by the baby, who was sitting in the entryway, still wearing his dorky outfit that he wore to the luncheon. I asked him what he was doing and he said, “Looking for boots to wear for my Darth Vader costume.”
“Oh,” I replied and headed upstairs.
When I came downstairs, I was confronted by this:
The boots that he found to complete his outfit are these brown dressy boots of mine. Not quite befitting the darkest motherfucker in the galaxy.
Darth Vader: The Dandy Years
ETA: and a video for good measure
My favorite part is about 20 seconds in when he bumps into the couch and tries to play it off. Then he starts in with the “Let ME see. Let ME see,” whining. This video so captures my life.
October 1, 2005: nothing, but I’d like to take this opportunity to say that I think my writing has GREATLY improved since 2004. Holy crap.
October 1, 2004: I was grumbling about abstinence-only education
I was flipping through channels and landed on MTV because they were having one of their Choose or Lose programs and Cristina Aguilera had come to Pittsburgh to do a piece about how sex will be affected in the upcoming election.
My was it entertaining.
I missed the first bit of the show, but when I tuned in she was talking about sex education. For that portion she talked to, among other people, an abstinence group called Silver Ring Thing. Basically, you join this group, you get this silver ring and you make a vow to remain abstinent until marriage. This group is against teaching students about contraception in school because of that whole “mixed message” argument. Anyway, so Ms. Aguilera, who has been somewhat, um, open about her sexuality in the past is talking to these rather prim and very virginal teenagers about what exactly they do with each other. She asked all the tough questions, like, “So I guess you guys don’t, like, dry hump and stuff?” And these kids blush, fiddle with their silver rings and nervously chuckle, “No. Um, Jesus?”
By the way, Bush is planning on spending $268,000,000 on abstinence education in the coming years. That got a big old “Fuck You!” from me. Nothing against abstinence, but dropping that much dough just to tell kids not to “do it” is fucking ludicrous. I don’t care what religious background you come from. At some point I’d like to do a big post about how sexuality is fucked with by folks, but I don’t have the energy for it now and typing on this iMac keyboard gives me TMJ.
But the CRAZIEST part was when I looked up at the screen and saw Rebecca P., a girl that I went to Schenley with and there she was sitting across a table from Cristina Aguilera. I literally did a double take and asked…uh…no one (I was alone) what was going on. Rebecca was being interviewed for the pro-choice/pro-life segment. She gave a decent interview and she looks good. What was weird was that I ran into Rebecca at a Propagandi show about 4 years ago and the last that I had heard was that she was having a baby. However, when the boyfriend asked her how that was going, that was no longer the case and, well, that was an awkward moment because how do you segue out of that conversation? Funnily enough, after wondering aloud like the ignorant pricks that we were who manages to get pregnant accidentally nowadays, the boyfriend and I found ourselves staring the proverbial stork in its fucking smug proverbial beak a few short months later.
I have gas.
October 1, 2003: I was unemployed and concerned about it
My kid got up at 7:30 this morning. This in and of itself is not so much a problem, but I really didn’t get any sleep last night. So when I groggily peeled open my eyes this morning to hear, “MUM! MUM!” I honestly just didn’t believe it. My mom came into my room on her way out the door to go to work to confirm my fears.
Last night, after struggling with Microsoft Word for hours to make a presentable resume, and after putting the crazed baby to bed, the boyfriend and I watched High Fidelity…just because. When that was over, I sort of drifted off to sleep but the boyfriend stayed up and watched more TV. Apparently I started talking in my sleep and the boyfriend played off of it to confuse me, asking me random questions and ordering me to kiss my sock monkey (which I did). Anyway, around 3 a.m. I was forced awake by the ending scenes of Requiem for a Dream. Not pleasant. All of the electric-shock therapy, buttf*cking, limb severing, and prison guard screaming forced me to roll over and look at the boyfriend with my best, “What the fuck?” face. He turned off the TV, but we stayed awake for awhile, chatting and miscellaneous groping. He fell asleep around 4:30 but I was wide awake and thinking about, oh, EVERYTHING. I hate when I do that. I got out my laptop around 5 and just tooled around for a little bit until I finally started to get drowsy again around 6. So, yeah, all and all I think I got about 3 hours of broken sleep. Now I’m up and trying to be SuperMom. I also have to write some stuff for Pulp today (along with 6,000 other things for wintermittens). Yay.