Take dating for instance;
Then: I remember my first date - we'll leave him nameless to protect the innocent - we had to meet at a public place (the Guthrie theatre) since neither of us could drive (well, that and I think there is a slim chance I might have lied…I mean failed to mention...to my parents that I had a date). Now: I find myself 17 years later still having to meet in a public place when meeting a boy for a date. Yes, they are still boys - that wasn't a slip - some things will never change - the license picture may look older, but the attitude sometimes isn't. Although, now its because I don't know if he's a psycho or not, but nonetheless, still meeting in public places only…and neither of us drives…granted, most people living in London don't drive, but again - same outcome.Take fashion, too, I thought we were done with legwarmers, mini skirts, pony tails that stick straight out the side of the head, florescent jelly shoes and of course, mullets (well, they are still in style in remote parts of Oklahoma, Alaska and Alabama, but those people seem to pay attention more their Guns N' Ammo instead of Vogue, so we'll forgive them). But nowadays Diary, I walk down the streets here in London only to have my sense assailed by mullets, general craziness where hair is concerned, legwarmers in colors that make your eyes hurt, miniskirts so short I am amazed they aren't outlawed (though, if I had the body to pull that off, I might be a little less harsh with those chicks). Yesterday I saw a woman wearing a purple mini skirt, orange tights, and brown leather dress shoes…who are these people? Where do they find this stuff? Do they look in the mirror in the morning, wink at themselves and think they look FINE!?
There are also days here that I feel like a freshman again…and not in a good way. I remember the feeling of being a little fish in a big pond…all the little inside jokes and humor that went over my head…having to figure out my way around a place that seemed a bit too daunting to take some days…having to deal with the social politics that dominate all high schools. Here I find myself a little fish across the pond….sometimes I don't get the humor - it may be because its got crazy words mingled in the sentences that I don't understand yet, or maybe the accent is too strong, but the outcome is the same - I laugh a bit (only a bit, too much and they know you don't have a clue; no laugh at all and they know you don't have a clue). As for having to figure my way around a place that seems daunting - you try figuring out the bus routes on a colour coded map that only has 4 colours and 10 buses and (finding out the hard way) that the tube map is NOT an accurate representation of the layout of London - and then we'll talk! Oh, and Diary, I am also finding, not that these are new finding, but they are observations just the same - the politics that dominate the lives of hormone crazed teenagers are, at their very core, not so different from the politics that dominate money and power crazed adults.
Diary, I get it - I don't want to relive it, but does this vicious cycle ever end? Will I be in the retirement home lost in a maze of hallways, wearing clothes that people half my age would laugh (or blog) about and trying to figure out the drama that goes on with the night shift nurses who have mullets and wear legwarmers with their short uniforms…and all the while wondering where the public place was that I was supposed to meet that old guy…what was his name again?!!?
