Here’s Looking At You, 2002

1831_525147812737_8229_nI have a confession. This blog? It isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been blogging since before I even knew what blogging was when a friend introduced Livejournal to me in High School. Ever since then, in some capacity, the trials and tribulations of my life, my feelings and emotions, and a myriad of embarrassing aspects of my pubescent and post-pubescent experiences have lived in Cyberspace. A few weeks ago, I remembered my old Livejournal and thought “There’s no way that still exists somewhere in the world of internet. NO WAY.” Well, guess what? I was wrong.The following exerts you are about to read come from Tanya aged 17. It was 2002, I was Junior in High School, oblivious to how gay I was, opinionated, emo, and apparently really angry at the Hooters franchise although not for the reasons you would think I would be. Without further ado, I give you, me:

Feelings On School Dances: “So Homecoming is tonight huh? Homecoming = girls who need to put on clothes, “cool” seniors raiding mommy and daddies liquor cabinet, and dancing in little circles to shitty music. If I felt the need to do any of that I would do it at my own expense.”

Handling My Booze With Ease: “I am sooooo drunk….I am at central with emily and i am so damn glad that we are friends, and i mean it! with all my heart i love em AND IM sad it took us this long to be friends. but hey1 we are now so good for that….vegaertatians are heros! theyn save lives every sinngle day! like cows and such.  i hav to pee.”

On My Cat Lady Roots: “I’m going to stop writing to go bond with a very special boy. Okay I’m just talking about my cat.”

Busy Being Creepy: “It made me have desire to ask my same sex friends “Hey, if we got drunk and had sex would we be cool after?” I like asking people things that make them uneasy…”

Inventing Emo: “Here, I was a minion to apathy. It was here I was devoid and comfortably numb. The parking lot was barely illuminated by a dull moon, the fisherman had long since declared it to cold and turned their backs on the hollow leaving the pavement lonely and coated with rain. We followed the cement stones which served as a makeshift boat launch close to the where the water rolled up. Waves lapped gently as though deliberately trying to avoid the leather sandals we wore. And now standing on a stone at a steep incline as permanent and as impermanent as the past you see the mark, where the wave finally broke and swelled, then hid in the slow moving waters behind it.”

Thoughts On Cybersex: “I haven’t gotten an IM to cyber for a long time! I mean I was assuming aol creator/hero, Steve Case, had put on his fucking cape and abolished the most pathetic instant message one liner ever; “Hey, wanna cyber?” Yes! of course. Computer sex is so hot! Let me just sit in my families public space, pull down my pants and ultimately contaminate the area with my body fluids. After all, nothing says good sex like a whirring modem and some fifty something man with three balls on the other side playing with himself. It’s probably an eight year old boy, if he sprays shorts he could explode! I don’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death now, do I? Or it could be my Grandma, or yours…who the fuck knows? It could be a highly intelligent German Shepard.”

Popular Culture & Television: “I am watching ‘Sister, Sister,’ it’s like a drug. A drug that you keep coming back to and don’t understand why. Why? why? am I obsessed with the silly antics of two twins reunited?”

When I Found Out What Pot Was: “Holy shit…last night I saw Pink Floyd’s, “The Wall,” and it absolutely blew my mind. It made me want to do…something! Paint, draw, write an essay, rebel, anything. Giulia summed it up well when she said “I can’t wait to go home tonight,” I ask her why, “So I can sleep.” I ask her if she’s tired, “No I just want to dream.” I think dreams post-“The Wall,” would be fantastic and tastefully deranged. War, insanity, education, conformity, the walls restrictions and breaking through the wall…it spoke through music and it spoke through visuals, there is no narrator or structured plot to spell it out for us but the message is clear and profoundly bold.”

My Mom Always Being The Most Sane: “So have no fear everyone whose driving by my house in dismay at the lack of Holiday spirit. Now if you gaze in the living room window instead if the empty void where you usually see ones beautiful bright Christmas tree, you will see the mother of Christmas and all good things she encompasses. There she is, propped up on a four feet lamp stand: a two foot plastic tree with color changing fiberglass threads rotating slowly in all her glory. My Mom greeted us with a manic smile and “Man! It’s nice to have a down to earth Christmas.” I think she’s on the verge of another “Merry Fucking Christmas” break down. She’s at the insane happiness phrase; on the brink! Ah, happy holidays everyone.”

On Women’s Rights: “If you work at Hooters, your job surpasses both serving and delivering wings and assorted foods; once in hot pants you are a performer. I don’t care if you like me damnit, but your going to pretend you do-whether there is penis involved or not. If your wearing hot pants, and working in a facility campaigning the breast you probably don’t have a great deal of self-diligance left anyways. How do you know if we are there for the wings? I have a theory that if you work at Hooters you should come onto the female customers in the same way you come onto beer drinking, fifty-something, redneck, overweight, unshaven, and filthy men. We deserve the same respect as them. Don’t be afraid, sit down, talk to us, and pretend that waiting on us is a quirky joy rather than disdain.”

If you care to see more of the horror that just unfolded in front of you visit: I’ll be over here in my corner of shame, praising AOL 8.0, degrading woman and becoming a Lesbian.

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