That Old Nostalgia

I've been blogging for a year and a half, having started a few months from graduating college. My first posts were done each month and each month - I looked forward to it. Something about establishing who I am at that time. And being able to read it later. Being nostalgic - was exciting. Where I've been - was exciting. It's strange to go back and reread some early posts.

Of recent, I finally got it.

When I first started college, I made some fearful remarks that we live in a time of nothing. I believed that our time would somehow not exist. That thousands of years from now, people won't be able to establish who we are.

The Romans had their statues and art. The Egyptians have pyramids. And recently, I looked at different decades and could feel their presence. Of course, most of that's been dictated for me by films and music. I refer to The Beatles and psychedelic hippies. Led Zeppelin and disco. Studio 64. Ronald Regan, cocaine. Money and Cindi Lauper. Nirvana and Reality Bytes. Puff Daddy and .Com(s).

And then the decade changed.

Then there was nothing. I mean, we didn't really do anything "new." Everything was nostalgic. A repetition. The Strokes. Every movie is a remake. A Sequel. A fucking comic book. And so, when people wanted to refer to the 2000s as a period. A decade -

It wouldn't make any sense.

It wouldn't be anything.

I assumed.

And then. Suddenly. It did. The coming of this fall. The cool air seeping into my bedroom. The weight of my blankets warming me. The way the tip of my nose tips a bit of cool. Everything started to feel - nostalgic.

I assume some of it has to do with the fact that last September was the first month I really felt - I lived in Los Angeles. The end of last June I moved out here. The first time I really moved away from home. My parents didn't live with me while I was in college. But I lived close enough that it felt like I was on an extended vacation. Sitting here across the country makes me truly - independent. I began my first day in Los Angeles, on the red carpet. Then, in July, I was trying to find my first job. Looking for a place. In August, I was moving in. Settling. And then. September rolls around.

And I'm settled.

Last September, I was stressed about money. Work. I took a secret trip to New York. Moving away - was somehow frightening and I had to get away. Escape. And visit friends. I believe New York is where I belong. If I could afford it. In New York, I went to the 2006 Wired Fest. I decided to give up my Veganism. I cried. (That lasted the VERY unlucky month of October) (until I got into AFI in the first half of November and took it back).

Now. One year later, I'm here.

It feels familiar. This is the first year, I'm looking forward to my birthday. I'm not excited for gifts or phone calls. I'm going to be working that day but there something about it. That specific day that, above all other days, feels most familiar. It's a day that when you wake up you say to yourself. It's my birthday. There something incredibly egotistical and beautiful about it. It's a day we've given ourselves to celebrate us.

I think it hits me more with the coming fall at the end of September. More than any change, it affects me most. I think because I detest hot weather. I hate feeling sticky and sweaty. I never liked the beach. I'm pale. I don't have an attractive - naked - body. Being hot isn't my thing. I'd rather be cold. And pale. And dressed in layers.

I'd rather it snow.

And now it's 2007. I'm going to be turning 26. And the 2000s, seem familiar. Apple products. iPods. iPhones. Digital music. Laptops. The Iraq War. Indie music. Sequels and comic book movies. George W. Bush.

I woke up today wondering what the Teens will bring. Where will I be in 2017? What do they have to offer. It's exciting to exist. And I'm giving myself an early (10 day) Happy Birthday.

I'm going to take a shower and head to the 2007 Wired Fest.

The future is waiting.

Again.