So, as previously mentioned in a post I deleted because it was boring, we watched the movie "Reality Bites" this weekend- which was one of my favorite things ever when I was 12 or so.
And it's not that I haven't seen it since then- but it's like, now I watch it and think that, really, Ben Stiller's character was a way better catch than Ethan Hawke's. 12 year old Robyn would think that was decidedly lame. Then again, 12 year old Robyn's interests at that time included the following:
-Bikini Kill, Babes in Toyland, L7, 7 Year Bitch, The Gits, etc.
- Writing the words "Riot Grrl" on my knuckles
- Baby barrettes
- Torn up fishnets
- Mid-drifts (a massive point of shame. Usually paired with pants purchased at the Army Navy Surplus.)
- Turning tights into sleeves by cutting out the crotch and cutting off the feet and pulling over head. For wear underneath said mid-drifts.
- Wearing slips as dresses
- Getting sent home from school for defying the dress code
- Starting petitions to get rid of said dress code (and for more vegetarian options at lunch!)
- Eating lunch in the girls room (not so much an interest as a necessity)
- Getting into political arguments with both teachers and students alike. The occasional screaming match with the homophobic ones.
-Beat Poetry (still living that down.)
- Writing poetry (never got the hang of the depressing stuff. Really tried though.)
-Failing at dying dark brown hair with Kool-Aid. (Attempts with aid of Sun-In proved disastrous)
- Boys who were into skateboarding and having long hair
- Boys who in any way resembled Kurt Cobain
-Drinking concoctions of every liquor in my parents cabinet out of a Where's Waldo thermos
- The word "poseur"
- Rolling eyes at the kids who thought they were punk rock all of a sudden because they listened to Green Day. Because we'd been like, listening to The Ramones and The Sex Pistols and The Misfits and The Dead Kennedys since like, sixth grade, because my best friend's older brothers and sister were like, super cool and played them for us.
- Pretending to be way into Ingmar Bergman
- Trying to get my mom to let me get my bellybutton pierced (I eventually succeeded at age 15, and still have the shameful hole. Why is she always right about everything?)
- Painting my converse with nail polish
- Stealing Marlboro Lights from my mom
- My So-Called Life
- Painting my nails with white-out
- Stealing wet and wild nail polish from Caldor
- The Lunch Box purse
- Convincing my relatives that I was a practicing Satanist (For the record, this was my mom's idea.)
Now, for a 12 or 13 year old, I think I was kinda neat. I still listen to riot grrrl, and I maintain that Sassy was a super awesome and inspirational publication. HOWEVER... thank god I'm not the same girl that I was then. For one thing, I was kind of insecure at that point, and thus became insanely pretentious and caught up in being edgy. I was basically intolerable.
But, for another- there aren't a whole lot of things more sad than people who are clearly stuck in the time when they were the most cool. Like the 40 year old women you see with perms and puffball bangs. Or 40 year old men with long hair and motorcycle jackets. It's why I would never get a tattoo (I've never regretted not getting one. Especially when I see people who are stuck with the "tribal" tattoo that was cool for like one year, or a butterfly on their ankle.).
I'm not sure what my junior high self would think of me now. I don't think she thought I'd ever grow up.