walls are props

What’s freaking me out is simple enough. Derek and Kari have each posted blogs about journal entries they wrote in elementary school. My friend Kerry posted stories on Myspace that she and her sister wrote as children. Finally, Heather passed on one of those Myspace chain bulletins that recapped what she was doing five years ago (she was seventeen.)

My question is this: have we reached the age where we are starting to reminisce? Are we starting to say things like, “Remember how cool it was to be an eight-year-old?” I mean, I read Dandelion Wine, and it was a pretty good book, but Ray Bradbury sure as heck did better with his other stories. I’m freaked out because suddenly the 80s are retro, G.I. Joes and Transformers are selling at a brisk pace, and 8-bit Nintendo games are making people all gushy.

I just don’t think I’m the type of person to say, “Remember how cool the 5th grade was?” I hated 5th grade. Last week, though, was pretty decent. This week might be shaping up just fine, too. And if the stupid Smithson bars keep playing music I got sick of during my childhood, I’m going to continue throwing up when I walk by them. Enough, already.

UPDATE: Looks like Berkleigh passed the bulletin on.

Some weird restrictions on modeling in Belarus just blew my mind away. I guess seeing the collapse of the Soviet bloc when I was 10 and 11 years old gave me the impression that Soviet-style government collapsed with it. Unfortunately, I keep getting these little reminders that my impressions are far from accurate.

From the CIA factbook (linked above, click graphic):

Government restrictions on freedom of speech and the press, peaceful assembly, and religion continue.

No kidding.

Then you probably didn’t see Maggie ride Steve around the apartment. On a related note, there was a German shepherd at the party. Things didn’t really seem to hit the party stride until Kate got her camera out, and suddenly it was candy canes on Steve, zucchini on my wall, and Bradie trying to rip apart my bean bag chairs to see what was inside.

Beans. Duh.

I would just like to thank the guy who plows my parking lot for making it so much fun to get ready for work this morning. Normally, one of the benefits of renting is never having grass to mow or snow to shovel. Well, at least there isn’t a lawn.

Also, the radio informed me this morning that today is the 25th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. So my day is starting on a happy note.

Finally turned my film scanner on again and the weird stripes magically vanished. That means my Flickr account gets bombed, now. I just uploaded pics from my Halloween party and found some from Derek and Kari’s wedding that I still need to scan.

Speaking of parties, come to my party on Saturday. That is all.