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This song was one of the bright ones that brought me through those years. The summer that this played over and over, I swung from this song to escape. Always landed back where I was, but I certainly felt better.
For me, 90s music is going to be about 1996 and the far-reaching implications of that year until all the horror has been smoothed away by the passage of time and the re-visiting of those memories so many times that it fails to shock, and then fails to sadden, and then merely just is.
My then-best-friend, my high school best friend That Idiot Shawn, the guy I was in love with at the time, was getting the annoying end of the custody shuffle. He was also in possession of too much imagination, too much sensational TV, and self-medicated ADHD, using under-the-counter substances. Top that off with him being an irredeemable drama queen, and you may have an idea of how much chaos he was capable of causing, unaided. Enter me, the sheltered, naive girl who grew up without television and under the impression that everything a close friend or family member told you was the truth to the best of their knowledge. I believed in weird coincidences and the supernatural, because of weird stuff that went on in my own life. He believed that weird coincidence and the supernatural made for really good drama. He told me his rich fantasy life, complete with all the things he'd ever wanted to be and the way things would have played out if he'd been in a movie. He didn't bother to tell me where reality began and his dreams ended, partly because he thought I'd just know, and partly because -- well, he enjoyed the power he held over me.
This was on the radio then. I remember it being a year of bitter and symbolic songs with that thread of despairing hope and deep-rooted anger, because listening to the radio was like looking in a mirror. His world was crumbling around him, and he was taking mine with it.
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metaquotes: a "just ... no!" moment involving The Race Card: http://community.livejournal.com/customers_suck/21427151.html
Today at work involved rather a lot of insanity. I hacked away at the database, and got the whole copypasta action going smoothly. I had my groove on, and then Snarky Lady brought in a new monitor trainee. And. OMG. There was insanity. She's not particularly technical, but she does have immense attention to detail, and I'd recommend her to carry out an audit on anything I was interested in getting to the bottom of.
Turns out that using the time from the system that intermittently just adds 24 hours here and there to people's times is a bad idea when calculating Real Production. Who knew! (Well, actually, I thought I'd pinned that problem down; I was using the time that added, not the time that didn't. Hmm. I will have to ponder about this. This is ... um. I think I should e-mail Management *again* because. Wow. Yeah. 'K. I thought I'd fixed that, because *those* times didn't seem to have problems. This is something entirely NEW!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKUGltGwN3U -- Lo-Rider: "Skinny" = pure sex. (The gay male members of my friends list can skip this one if they wish.)
And it's 90s Music Monday!
"1979", Smashing Pumpkins.
I'm not entirely sure why I love this song so much. I just do.
I carefully crafted the whole "I am in on my day off today" look for going to work. I wore my now-usual black sandals (a little scruffier than usual thanks to boffing on Friday and the associated mud, some of which I still need to mop up from various corners of the apartment), some fluffy turquoise blue socks, my slinky iridescent glitter skirt hiked up to mid-calf (showing leg! ohnoez!), a company t-shirt (ash grey), a rainbow rubber bracelet that says "PRIDE", and my hair up in a bun.
Rev. Not-So-Nice Super saw me in that get-up and declared that he'd lost all respect for me. I was standing on the other side of the bullpen counter, so he only saw the shirt. I flashed the socks at him. He said "The next thing you know, you'll be wearing all SORTS of bright colors in here!" I flashed the rainbow bracelet. Bwahahaha.
I encountered Barking Phone Goon on my way to work and her way from. She hailed me in a way that was at least superficially pleasantly outgoing. I was not really anticipating having that encounter. The senior team got the e-mail I sent out late Friday night. Good.
I brought strawberries to work, and ate them instead of actual lunch. Mmm, strawberries. Does it count as not eating a proper meal when you have strawberries throughout the day? It feels like both it should and shouldn't be a proper meal, but chips at vaguely-lunchtime sort of made it better ... right? There were almonds in my bag as well. I was also expecting a four-hour encounter with the database, not a seven-and-a-half hour encounter with the database plus bonus end-user time.
I get barged in on to fix technical problems when I'm trying to develop my database. This makes me a bit cranky. Then, I am approachable for computer problems, and cheerfully try to explain to end-users who mean well. This time, Grandma Cinderella Supervisor had a problem. I didn't know the fix, so I referred her to the Guru. I'll bet he'll be happy. (Not.)
Cock-Cola. *snerk*
metaquotes: a "just ... no!" moment involving The Race Card: http://community.livejournal.com/customers_suck/21427151.htmlToday at work involved rather a lot of insanity. I hacked away at the database, and got the whole copypasta action going smoothly. I had my groove on, and then Snarky Lady brought in a new monitor trainee. And. OMG. There was insanity. She's not particularly technical, but she does have immense attention to detail, and I'd recommend her to carry out an audit on anything I was interested in getting to the bottom of.
Turns out that using the time from the system that intermittently just adds 24 hours here and there to people's times is a bad idea when calculating Real Production. Who knew! (Well, actually, I thought I'd pinned that problem down; I was using the time that added, not the time that didn't. Hmm. I will have to ponder about this. This is ... um. I think I should e-mail Management *again* because. Wow. Yeah. 'K. I thought I'd fixed that, because *those* times didn't seem to have problems. This is something entirely NEW!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKUGltGwN3U -- Lo-Rider: "Skinny" = pure sex. (The gay male members of my friends list can skip this one if they wish.)
And it's 90s Music Monday!
"1979", Smashing Pumpkins.
I'm not entirely sure why I love this song so much. I just do.
I carefully crafted the whole "I am in on my day off today" look for going to work. I wore my now-usual black sandals (a little scruffier than usual thanks to boffing on Friday and the associated mud, some of which I still need to mop up from various corners of the apartment), some fluffy turquoise blue socks, my slinky iridescent glitter skirt hiked up to mid-calf (showing leg! ohnoez!), a company t-shirt (ash grey), a rainbow rubber bracelet that says "PRIDE", and my hair up in a bun.
Rev. Not-So-Nice Super saw me in that get-up and declared that he'd lost all respect for me. I was standing on the other side of the bullpen counter, so he only saw the shirt. I flashed the socks at him. He said "The next thing you know, you'll be wearing all SORTS of bright colors in here!" I flashed the rainbow bracelet. Bwahahaha.
I encountered Barking Phone Goon on my way to work and her way from. She hailed me in a way that was at least superficially pleasantly outgoing. I was not really anticipating having that encounter. The senior team got the e-mail I sent out late Friday night. Good.
I brought strawberries to work, and ate them instead of actual lunch. Mmm, strawberries. Does it count as not eating a proper meal when you have strawberries throughout the day? It feels like both it should and shouldn't be a proper meal, but chips at vaguely-lunchtime sort of made it better ... right? There were almonds in my bag as well. I was also expecting a four-hour encounter with the database, not a seven-and-a-half hour encounter with the database plus bonus end-user time.
I get barged in on to fix technical problems when I'm trying to develop my database. This makes me a bit cranky. Then, I am approachable for computer problems, and cheerfully try to explain to end-users who mean well. This time, Grandma Cinderella Supervisor had a problem. I didn't know the fix, so I referred her to the Guru. I'll bet he'll be happy. (Not.)
Cock-Cola. *snerk*
