I guess this "blogging" thing became a thing
Do you remember 1999? I'm sure a lot of you don't, but hang on, I have a point.
When I think of 1999, I think of this Esprit backpack that my late Uncle bought me. It was a grey, wooly bag that, on first glance, was your normal run of the mill messenger bag. However, to keep it from the mundane, it had chunky pockets on the outside and thick straps that tucked away on the interior that could be used to convert it to a cross body satchel.
This bag allowed me to slowly dip my feet into a more mature fashion, but also allowed a safe alternative. Fashion was leaning toward the Yohji Yamamoto Y2k aesthetic. Fashion was becoming utilitarian & useful, yet excessive.
The popular fashion at the time was inspired by the idea that we were heading into a brave new frontier, yet it was also the future. I mean, we'd all seen Blade Runner and Tron (the original), the 21st century had to be sleek and stylistic. But we had to be ready.
While I may have only been wanting to tip my toes into the fashion, I was fully immersed in the ideas of the day. I had taught myself HTML using AOLpress and Notepad and I was already using WS_FTP. I began Blogger in a time when even sending a photo of yourself to someone was taboo.
I used to express myself so freely, I had blogs about everything from my ideas on socialism to why Taking Back Sunday was not "emo". I figured someone had to care, or maybe I didn't even care if anyone else cared. I had so much inside of myself that I had to get out.
Long before the movie Mean Girls, I titled one of my LJs "Mind Vomit". (BTW, livejournal is still a thing and I just made one, so should you.) I just couldn't keep any of my thoughts, feelings, or emotions down. Anything that was on my mind, had to be regurgitated into the world in all its undigested glory.
Eventually, I moved to Hollywood, then lost myself in a relationship and the world of the surface. I became friends with girls and dated guys who just became freaked out if you expressed anything you felt. Being the polar type of gal I am, instead of just learning to appropriately express emotions, I just shut down. I decided no one cared what I thought and the idea of actually expressing myself online caused immense anxiety.
Anyways, this is my attempt to open myself back up to the world. I'm constantly being told to start journaling and writing again, so here I am. Some really heinous things have happened to my family and I in the last few months and I thought this medium would make going through healing a little more palatable. Darkness aside, I do have a good sense of humor about myself and about effed up situations. If you want some random sardonic wit and musings at my attempt at meditation and dealing with life, here it is.
On a side note,
I also blame Bert McCracken for needing throat surgery and canceling a tour for ending my professional writing. I was supposed to interview you that tour, Bert. What the heck, guy, sing on with those strained vocal chords, I needed my big break. Ironically enough, my husband was supposed to be on the tour I was going to interview him on.
When I think of 1999, I think of this Esprit backpack that my late Uncle bought me. It was a grey, wooly bag that, on first glance, was your normal run of the mill messenger bag. However, to keep it from the mundane, it had chunky pockets on the outside and thick straps that tucked away on the interior that could be used to convert it to a cross body satchel.
 |
| an example of 1999 fashion goals |
This bag allowed me to slowly dip my feet into a more mature fashion, but also allowed a safe alternative. Fashion was leaning toward the Yohji Yamamoto Y2k aesthetic. Fashion was becoming utilitarian & useful, yet excessive.
The popular fashion at the time was inspired by the idea that we were heading into a brave new frontier, yet it was also the future. I mean, we'd all seen Blade Runner and Tron (the original), the 21st century had to be sleek and stylistic. But we had to be ready.
While I may have only been wanting to tip my toes into the fashion, I was fully immersed in the ideas of the day. I had taught myself HTML using AOLpress and Notepad and I was already using WS_FTP. I began Blogger in a time when even sending a photo of yourself to someone was taboo.
I used to express myself so freely, I had blogs about everything from my ideas on socialism to why Taking Back Sunday was not "emo". I figured someone had to care, or maybe I didn't even care if anyone else cared. I had so much inside of myself that I had to get out.
Long before the movie Mean Girls, I titled one of my LJs "Mind Vomit". (BTW, livejournal is still a thing and I just made one, so should you.) I just couldn't keep any of my thoughts, feelings, or emotions down. Anything that was on my mind, had to be regurgitated into the world in all its undigested glory.
Eventually, I moved to Hollywood, then lost myself in a relationship and the world of the surface. I became friends with girls and dated guys who just became freaked out if you expressed anything you felt. Being the polar type of gal I am, instead of just learning to appropriately express emotions, I just shut down. I decided no one cared what I thought and the idea of actually expressing myself online caused immense anxiety.
 |
| credit: giphy |
Anyways, this is my attempt to open myself back up to the world. I'm constantly being told to start journaling and writing again, so here I am. Some really heinous things have happened to my family and I in the last few months and I thought this medium would make going through healing a little more palatable. Darkness aside, I do have a good sense of humor about myself and about effed up situations. If you want some random sardonic wit and musings at my attempt at meditation and dealing with life, here it is.
On a side note,
I also blame Bert McCracken for needing throat surgery and canceling a tour for ending my professional writing. I was supposed to interview you that tour, Bert. What the heck, guy, sing on with those strained vocal chords, I needed my big break. Ironically enough, my husband was supposed to be on the tour I was going to interview him on.
 |
| yeah, fuck you too, Bert. jk not really ily |
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