another pilfered survey type thing
Thank you, screaming_rose.
20 years ago:
I am 4 years old and already having problems making friends with the other kids at St. Thomas nursery school. Memories are in flashes but nursery schoolmate Bridget Kelly rings clear. I have a crush on her. She has curly hair and a huge smile. When my heathen parents finally decide to have me baptised they tell me I can pick my own middle name, but that it had to start with a B (long story). I lobby long and hard for Baloney but eventually settle on Bridget. Get it? Kelly Bridget-Bridget Kelly. I often hide beside our horribly out-of-tune upright piano and wait for my dad to come home from work while my mom cooks dinner in the kitchen. When he walks in the door he has a perfectly good view of me. I don't understand the concept of hiding too well. Another important development: my very first ballet classes.
10 years ago:
I am 14 and having what I think is a really great year. I have started dieting/quit eating/using diet pills and am suffering a few side effects (ie, a UTI and a mysterious pain in my side that came and went and never explained itself). I have gone from being 5'2″ 110 lbs to being 5'4″ 95-100 lbs. I look gaunt in pictures from this time but still a little part of me thinks I look fabulous. I have a great year in ballet, improve a ton, get accepted to Pacific Northwest Ballet's summer program. Opt instead to stay at PBT for the summer to ensure a spot in the Schenley Program for the upcoming year, a decision that still smarts today. I am still at Riverview High School but itching to get out. I have a better year than freshman year, less teasing, although still recovering from Justin Pappa's ruse of spreading gossip that he likes me, prompting me to pass a note stating that I liked him, which (I bet you know where this is going) led to him laughing in my face and me becoming the joke of the entire school for quite a few months. Sadly enough, this is the third time that has happened to me in my short life. Justin and I come to be on speaking terms once again, but with a lot more caution on my part. I am doing a lot of shopping at Contempo Casuals. On the way to ballet one sunny weekday in April, a special report comes on the radio that Kurt Cobain has committed suicide. I am crushed.
5 years ago:
I am 19 and just about to quit my waitressing job at the Grand Concourse due to fuckingsickofthisshititis. Fairly recent resignation from ballet still gives me nightmares and depression. I write some really bad poetry about it. My parents have been separated for a year. I live with my mother in a crappy apartment in Oakmont. I go to Richmond to visit Stacey and drink pretty much nonstop while I'm there. We throw a huge and legendary party that is still spoken of in hushed tones today. I discover Target. Clint and I have just started going out and having sex in his stuffy little room above Little Chicago's Pizza (aka Castle Gayskull) on the South Side. I end up spending most of my free time/living there with him. I fall in love with him fast but am increasingly uncomfortable by his utter lack of cultural knowledge. Memorable quotes include, “Who's Aretha Franklin? Who's Van Morrison?” *shudder* I will begin college at Pitt in the fall. I go on birth control pills and my breasts explode. I buy my first computer and quickly fall in love with L'Internet. CCeallaigh@aol.com is born, causing many to say, “How the hell do you pronounce that?” I am about to move into an apartment with an old ballet friend, Anne. Her boyfriend and I clash, I place a ladybug on his marijuana plant. I faint and throw up in the lobby of Jimmy Tsang's Chinese Restaurant due to some kind of food poisoning. I am horribly embarrassed.
3 years ago:
I am 21. I am drinking a good bit but probably a normal amount for a 21-year-old. I am recovering from a rough fall semester, during which my grades plummeted. I manage to pull myself up and score a spot on the Dean's List. My weight has fluctuated since ceasing BCP and taking up drinking. Clint and I broke up in November, but I occasionally still hear from him. He has moved back to the Poconos. At the boyfriend's persuasion (though, obviously he wasn't the boyfriend at the time) I am dating/sleeping with/being used by Geoff, who manages to drive me a little crazier with each passing day. A brief, ill-advised affair with Tad begins, but is soured when he tells me that his mother would hate me. We remain on speaking terms for only a few more months. Frank is coming in and out of town and staying at my house, resulting in late late late nights full of senseless but heartwarming conversation and drives through Oakland to sniff the air and pet dinosaurs. I am having trouble finding a job for the summer. I get a new computer.
1 year ago:
I am 23 and caring for my 4-month-old son, who I am psychotically in love with. He and I are living with the boyfriend in a charming apartment in Squirrel Hill, which has a lovely view of the Temple from our bedroom window. We live with Jessica and Phoenix but never see them. I am doing well in school and struggling to lose weight…again. I watch a lot of TV due to many hours spent on the couch nursing my son. Because of the roommate and various financial situations, it soon becomes apparent that we will have to move out of this apartment. Life is seemingly in constant upheaval. I continue to battle the residual effects of post-partum depression. There are days when I can barely speak, but I am determined to come out of it. I feel at times severely isolated from my friends and family. kdiddy@chemlab.org is born.
Yesterday:
I am recovering from the post-graduation celebration and writing a piece for Pulp. My son walks around, babbling, and trying to get hurt. I do not see the boyfriend due to his commitments to his grandmother and a change in his work schedule. I miss him immensely. yes, I am still that in love with him. My mom and I squabble about housework. I do not make my bed. I struggle with my weight.
Tomorrow:
Will be interesting. The boyfriend's car has finally bit the big one so I imagine whatever we do will be within walking distance. My son will walk around, babbling, pooping, trying to get hurt. I will call to make appointments for my driving test and with my gynecologist. I will work on preparations for big huge graduation parties on Saturday. I will do laundry. I will struggle with my weight.
