I really gotta be more careful about the shit I write on here. You know how yesterday I was talking about how nice I thought I was? Yeah, well today I was the queen of hate. I woke up cranky and all the way to work I had this horrible tape in my head that ran on and on and sounded something like this:
I hate that I have to work everyday and I hate it that I have to walk and I hate it that it's so humid out and I hate that it might rain and I can't find my umbrella and I hate that I'm not more organized and I hate it that my ex-husband's car broke-down and he can't afford to fix it and now I have to drive the girls to every little thing they do and to their dad's and I hate it that there really isn't one guy in this town anywhere near my age who actually has a job and doesn't have a drug and/or alcohol addiction and is mature enough to handle being in a relationship but is immature enough to be goofy and fun and I hate to admit that there are those men in town, but other, smarter women snatched them up while I was busy wasting my time gambling on the wrong guy's wasted potential and mostly, though, I hate it that I'm so hateful.
Whew! See what I mean? My head can be a scary place. Luckily for my co-workers, I kept all that shit undercover. I did warn people that I was cranky. I believe I said, "Yeah, it sucks that the computer can't answer all these phone calls it generated by sending out the wrong letter, but I'm going to be cranky no matter what, so I might as well have a reason." Of course, my co-workers took full advantage and started every sentence to me out with,
"..Since you're going to be cranky anyway, why don't put out this ridiculous fire..."
The good thing was, that I had the evening to myself. The even better thing was, that the documentary American Hardcore was on Starz OnDemand. If I was going to think like a surly teenager, I might as well relive that past, right?
As I've stated before, Hardcore was definitely my movement. I was too young for the first Punk Rock wave, but I was the perfect age for Black Flag and DOA and Bad Brains. I've watched a lot of those kinds of pop culture movement documentaries, where Allen Ginsberg and Henry Rollins (who are both in almost every one, have you noticed?) speak about the significance and the rise and fall and blah and blah, but this was the first one where I had seen most of the bands play live, and actually wasn't too young or too old for and lived the lifestyle they were describing. It was interesting to see part of my life viewed through an anthropological standpoint. When they spoke of the women's role in that world, I saw a lot of people who looked and acted just like me at 18 or 19. Scaaaarrrryyyy.
I got away from the scene when I moved to California in the middle of 1985. At the time, I figured I'd either just outgrown it once I hit twenty, or maybe that a new state brought different interests, but according to the documentary, the party was over anyway. Pretty much everyone else was done with it too. Damn, and here I thought I was all special and different and shit.