caerula's Diaryland Diary

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part one of the big-ass anniversary entry

So. A year and a day. Didn't intend to put this off, but yesterday was just yucky, and I couldn't concentrate long enough to get the links up and post things. One good thing, though � saw the ortho doctor, got the cast off and xrays to show that bones are healing nicely, and now just have a wrap and an air-cast � which means I can wear shoes and drive, both of which I did today! Yay! My foot is a bit achy but it feels so much better out of the damn cast.

So anyway, on to the big-ass anniversary entry. Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

No, I'm not going to do "100 things about me" or anything like that. Others have done it much more cleverly. What I am going to do is a sort of general summing up about what preceded this journal and what has come after. With lots o' fun links, which I have spent way too much work time collecting.

What came before:
February 8,1973: I was born, three weeks early. The first and last thing I have ever been early for in my life. My mother named me Jennifer, forever after claiming that she thought it was a "nice, old fashioned name" and that "she had never known any other person named Jennifer." Apparently at the time of my birth my parents were hermits living in a cave, since it was the most popular girls name that year , and had been since 1970 (and continued to be up until 1985, when it was upstaged by Jessica, which is what my mom had wanted to name me to begin with). Except they must have had a tv in their cave, as my middle name was inspired by a diaper commercial using the little-known song "Jenny Rebecca" ~ "Jenny Rebecca, 4 days old, how do you like the world so far�" lalala. Sappy, but of course now if I here the entire song (my mom actually owns an Olivia-Newton John cd with the song on) I get all weepy.

What else happened in 1973?
Roe v. Wade; J.R.R. Tolkien died, along with W.H. Auden, Pearl Buck, Pablo Picasso, and Lyndon B. Johnson; the Vietnam War ceasefire was signed; Secretariat won the Kentucky Derby; TCP/IP is designed (betcha didn't know that!>; Senate Watergate hearings began; Stevie Wonder released "You are the Sunshine of My Life". At least these are the things my mom saw fit to record in my baby book.
1975: I turned two. March 20, Kitty was born, and my life went from incredibly comfortable and attention-getting only child, to responsibility-laden oldest child. Sesame Street. Captain Kangaroo. Mr Dress-Up and the Friendly Giant on CBC, for those of us close enough to the Canadian Border.
1976: My earliest memory is somewhere around this period. I owned a pink polyester pant-suit, which I was so proud of because it looked just like something Mommy would wear (collar points that could put your eye out and everything); and also that year my parents for some insane reason let me go on a trip through D.C., Virginia, and Alabama with Grandma, Auntie, and her two kids S & T (now respectively the parents of SmartKid, Buttercup, the Diva, and Bubbles). They were teenagers at the time, and apparently S got a big kick reading me the newspaper in the same tone of voice they read me Little Red Riding Hood. LRRH was my favorite book at the time, to the point which my mom would take to pretending not to be able to find it.
This was also the year, apparently, that I taught myself to read, although I remember nothing about that process. I can't remember ever NOT being able to read.
And my mom cut my long white-blond hair, almost to my waist by then, because one day I came in from playing outside and she found ANTS in it. Ugh. Shudder. My dad was mad at her when he got home from work. Thus began my obsession with my hair.
Toys we may or may not have had. I also discovered an addiction to Fruit Strip Gum, and remember walking down the street with my mom, Kitty in a stroller, to the A&P. And I stole some, Mom not letting me have it for some reason. Mom of course discovered it since I was dumb enough to start chewing it on the way back to the house, and made me go back and apologize. And she TOOK THE GUM AWAY FROM ME. So endeth my life of crime.
We were allowed the occasionally Slurpie from the 7-11 we had around the corner, but we were never never allowed Pixie Stixs. However, Auntie had a candy drawer, and we were over there frequently during this time, my mom having gone back to work. She always had Pixie Stixs, Now n' Laters, and Charleston Chews, which could easily pull your teeth right out. She was also big on the Jello 1-2-3 thing as a desert.
1977, I started preschool and learned how evil children really were. They made fun of my homemade clothes and my little red dress with Winnie-the-Pooh on it (loved that dress, I have a picture somewhere of me in it). Since I could already read, I was incredibly bored learning my numbers and letters. Somehow my parents convinced the school district we lived in at the time that I should start kindergarten a year early. Academically, this was not a problem; socially, it was a disaster. All I really remember about kindergarten is my classroom had a red door, I liked music, and there was a kid named Richie who moved to Lincoln Schools about the same time we did, and I was so surprised to see him in 2nd grade. I believe he's a software engineer with Microsoft now. First recollection of seeing a movie, "Pete's Dragon." Loved loved loved Helen Reddy. "I'll be your candle on the water�." Wonder whatever happened to the kid who played Pete?
1978. Second movie recollection � "The Cat From Outer Space." Started 1st grade in the old school district. Evil, evil, evil first grade teacher. She was always correcting how I held my pencil (it didn't take, I still hold it oddly, but hey, it worked for me). I took to telling lies � lots of them. Not out of any form of malice, I don't believe, but just to make things more interesting. And I craved attention from this evil teacher, who didn't like me, I can see now, because she was teaching to the middle and even though I was only 5 and should have been in kindergarten, I was doing things like ignoring lessons and reading The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe under my desk. Got my hand slapped with a ruler several times for that major infraction. So I once told at show-and-tell that I'd had to have eye surgery (don't know where that came from) and came home with a note pinned to my coat, which, silly me, did not connect at all with the Big Lie �. So I got in trouble at home, there was talk with the teacher about how I wasn't "emotionally developed" enough for 1st grade, blah blah, and the upshot was, we moved in January to a "better" school district. I think we probably eventually would have moved anyway, but it happened a little sooner.
There were good things, too. Watching Road Runner cartoons on Saturday mornings with my dad. Schoolhouse Rock. Having a sister old enough both to play with and blame things on. A little plastic record player of my own � the top hits in our house being Big Bird's Lullabies, Bob Sings ("my heart is down, my head is turning around, I had to leave a little girl in Kingston town" � I had no idea anyone but Bob from Sesame Street sang that song), and the soundtrack from Pete's Dragon. I still own most of these records, although not a record player. So, 1979. Left our cute little brick house in the city, in a neighborhood I now realize was going downhill fast, and my only good friend, Chris, the little boy across the street. Moved to a little yellow-sided house (but with three bedrooms) in the suburbs, which back then was practically country. Turned six in February. Become friends with the "older girl" (all of 8) next door. Kitty turned 4 in March, and also sometime in there, my parents realized they were expecting again. My mom was on the pill. Surprise!
My new 1st grade teacher had curly hair, freckles, and a cool name, and was really really nice. I was put with a second grade reading group, which really freaked me out, as those were the big kids, two years older than me. And I was in the 2nd grade advanced group. Oh no, no social problems there. One of the 2nd graders convinced me there was a ghost in the bathroom, and I never NEVER went to the bathroom at school. Wet my pants several times on the way home from school, always went dashing into the house to the bathroom upon arriving home, and occasionally sneaked into the cloakroom and peed there. Poor janitors.
I have a very clear memory from this part of 1st grade. I was still reading the Narnia chronicles, over and over. There was a period where each student was called upon to read something out of his/her favorite book. Lots of Dr. Suess, nursery rhymes, etc., I'm sure. I got up and read out of LWW a passage I found absolutely hilarious, where the children discover the Beavers and go to dinner with them. I remember a bunch of kids staring at me blankly. I think this was when 1st grade teacher moved me into the gifted program, which meant I spent a good part of the day with Mrs. L, and that absolutely saved my life at that school.
Started second grade. Don't remember a whole lot about it, except a girl named Mary who had a huge wart on her hand that fascinated us, and we did a lot of those timed times/division tests. PicturePages. I was best friends with a girl in my class named Kim, who lived right across the street from the school, and when I'd go over to her house on the weekend, we'd roller skate in the school parking lot and think we were very cool.
I had a pink pinafore dress that I loved, and my mom put my hair in banana curls a lot. I had a pair of green plaid floods that I hated.
Having only girls in the house, besides my dad, we completely missed out on the whole Star Wars phenomenon. I remember nothing about it.
November 1: My sister Minnie was born, two weeks late. I was devastated that it was yet another girl, and went to the basement and cried. I did come around eventually. I like her a lot now.
1980. A new decade. My formative decade, really. Not a concept I had encountered before. Looking back, it seems to have gone by in a blink � from 2nd grade to graduation.. The Miracle on Ice. First presidential election I have any memory of, standing in line with my mom to vote. I clearly remember writing an angry letter to someone about our Olympics boycott. For some reason, it really depressed me. And thus began my Olympics obsession. Mt. St. Helens erupts. Iran hostage crisis. We start to learn about these things in school, in third grade, my first real concept of "world events," which will come thick and fast in the next few years, the height of the Cold War.
1981. 3rd grade. We have computers at school, for the first time. Two , in the library. Those of us in the "Gifted and Talented" program get extra time on them, mostly spent playing Pong. Which is the coolest thing ever.
The hostages come home. President Reagan assassination attempt. Pope John Paul also shot. Anwar Sadat is assassinated. We write school wide condolence letters to his widow. In December, John Lennon was shot, and our music teacher had us write more condolence notes to a widow, Yoko this time, on that wide lined school paper with big red pencils. What's with all the shooting?
Summer: Charles and Di wedding � I got up at 4:30 in the morning ON PURPOSE, as an 8-year-old, to watch this. Before we had a VCR, of course. By this time Kitty and I had Barbies, My Little Ponies, Rainbow Bright, Strawberry Shortcake. Minnie, at three, was a big Care Bears fan, and we all thought Popples were awesome. Was that when Mon-Chi-Chi was around? I still remember that jingle too�
The space shuttle launched. We got an assembly for that, got to watch it live on TV during school. It was a Big Deal. MTV apparently premiered, but we certainly didn't have cable.
1982. The end of innocence -- is that too sappy to say?. I was introduced to pop culture in 5th grade; before that I only knew the songs we sang at church and the country music played at home (I could sing "The Gambler" and "Lineman of the County" before I was 8). Michael Jackson. E.T. Family Ties. The Facts of Life (which theme song is still taking up valuable space in my brain). Knight Rider, Return of the Jedi. Chuck E. Cheese was a popular place to go, if you could get your parents to take you there. I ruled on Centipede, despite numerous blood blisters from that stupid rollerball.
"Late Night with David Letterman" premiered. My dad was working afternoon, and in the summer we were allowed to stay up until Dad got home and watch a little bit before bedtime. Now believe this was a ploy by mom to make us all sleep in late in the summer and give her some quiet time. The ERA Fails, which even at 9 I was quite incensed about. We learn all the words to "Eye of the Tiger."
Grace Kelly died � my mom was upset. I didn't know who she was.
We weren't allowed to go trick-or-treating that year after the cyanide-laced Tylenol and razor blades found in candy. And every year thereafter, until we were too old to trick-or-treat, we went down to the firehouse and got our candy x-rayed before we could eat it. My dad is laid off. My mom goes back to school to be a pharmacy tech. We spend a lot of time being babysat by Grandma, who wasn�t' quite so insane at the time � although she did manage to get a wad of cotton ball stuck up Minnie's little 3-year-old nose. The end of innocence.
1983: Michael Jackson. Thriller is The. Coolest. Record. Ever. Please, please, please can't I have some parachute pants?. Boys on playgrounds everywhere trying to breakdance and moonwalk. We start to have "Just Say No" assemblies.
We got an Intellivision. I get my first pair of Nikes and Jordache jeans for my birthday. I think I am very cool. M*A*S*H final episode a few weeks later, which I convince my parents to let me stay up and watch. Hell, I grew up on MASH. The CDC makes the AIDS virus the nation's top medical priority, but none of us who were to grow up and die from it, or watch our friends die, had any idea what it was about. Something about monkeys, and "homos"? What are homos?
Dad goes back to work. Mom's still in school. We are latchket children
Sally Ride. First woman in space. I want to be an astronaut. . I have a huge crush on Remington Steele, and occasionally am allowed to stay up past 10 to watch.
1984: It is officially legal to record tv broadcasts with a VCR, according to the Supreme Court. We religiously watch Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, but stop going to church (long story). Born in the USA replaces Thriller as The. Coolest. Album. Ever. Geraldine Ferraro � women power! Awesome! Summer Olympics in LA � I vividly remember Mary Lou Retton, Soviet boycott, and Diana Ross singing "Reach out and touch somebody's hand" at the closing ceremonies. Summer before junior high, I read Shakespeare for the first time, after Grandma takes us to Stratford to see A Midsummer's Night Dream. I have the revelation that Shakespeare is funny. The Detroit Tigers win the World Series, and there is much revelry and destruction downtown Detroit. In junior high, I lose my best friend to a more popular group and begin my brainwashing into nerddom. Purple Rain replaces Born in the USA, but we weren't allowed to go see the movie. My mom starts work at the hospital. Indira Ghandi is assassinated. More condolence letters on wide-ruled paper from a bunch of elementary kids. Regan is reelected. Bernie Goetz goes nuts on the subway. For Christmas, we get a computer � an IBM PCjr -- AND a microwave. Results of a two-parents-working household
1985: Mikhail Gorbachev. The Evil Empire. We are the World (except for the USSR, of course, we hate them). Live Aid �16 hours in front of the tv, driving my mom insane. I'm sure she eventually made us change it, but I have clear memories of Madonna, and Sting, and hey look, it's the Titanic. Wow.
First time Someone I Know dies. A kid from my school, flying with his parents to India to visit relatives, dies in a plane crash over the summer. In the fall, a plaque appears in the school hallway in his honor. Whoopee.
We get a VCR. The first movie we rent is "The Last Starfighter". Had to go to the appliance store to rent it, as there were no video stores yet. I change loyalties from "General Hospital" to "Days of our Lives" which I can now tape EVERY DAY when school starts again, and I watch the last half of "Santa Barbara" when I get home from school. I am allowed, somehow, to go see The Breakfast Club." First time I and my friend hear "fuck" said in a movie. I am convinced that I am Ally Sheedy. "Don't you, forget about me." We are convinced that this is a deeply meaningful movie.
1986. Jan. 28th, 1986, I was home sick from school and watched the Challenger explode, alone at home, on live television. I think I was in shock most of the rest of the day. My mom got home from work, not having heard, and I remember telling her in this really frozen voice. And she hugged me. More condolence letters from school children.
Feb. 8th, I turn 13. September, I start 9th grade. High school is very frightening. I am in marching band, which is apparently one of the nerdiest things you can do, besides being a library aid. Paul Simon, Graceland. After having who Paul Simon is explained to me, came to adore the album. Still one of my favorites to this day. "LA Law" premiers, which I am allowed to stay up and watch. Privileges of being the eldest. I chip my front tooth on a glass Pepsi bottle, which chip is still visible and has resulted in my front left upper tooth being cracked all the way across.I see, with my mom, Lady Jane, and fall in love both with Cary Elwes and the English Renaissance era. Also, the first time I see naked boobs on film, and am horribly embarrassed as I am with my mother.
1987: February, sometime around my birthday. I'm horribly sick with strep throat, and we move to our new house, which my parents have spent the last two years building in their spare time. We got to help occasionally, and everyone finally had their own room, and most important, we have two-and-a-half bathroom. Also, now we are REALLY out in the boonies. On a dirt road, no sidewalks, no where to ride your bike or roller skate to. I am suffering from severe depression, on looking back at my journal entries from this time period, but hide it very well and no one, including me, has any idea anything is really wrong with me besides the usual teenage hormones. I believe I really am too fat, too short, ugly, walk funny, and that no one will ever like me.
I am in my first high school play, L'il Abner, and meet the people who will be my saving grace through high school. Drama nerds & band fags. I go to my first high school party, the post-production play party, and acquire my first boyfriend, mostly because I just can't believe someone likes me that much, and how can someone turn down the question "Will you go with me?" Sense of sarcasm has not yet developed to the point where I would say "go where?" He is very shy, I am very shy, and it is at least three months before we actually kiss. Which didn't impress me at all, and so begins my stunted sexual development. I am thirteen. We are not allowed to go on dates by ourselves, mostly because neither of us are old enough to drive anyway, but his sister takes us, as one of our first outings, to go see The Princess Bride, which will eventually have a huge impact on my teenage years. I fall even more in love with Cary Elwes.
The whole damn summer is taken up with Iran-Contra and televised hearings. Ugh. At least we are forced to actually go outside.
10th grade. I have to take swim class, possibly one of the worst experiences of my life. I am also in several advanced classes already, solidifying my nerd queen status. In the fall play, "You Can't Take It With You," I am the Russian duchess who shows up only at the end and talks about blintzes and Rasputin. Had no idea what I was talking about anyway, and affected a hideous sort-of-Russian accent. Still "going with" Drama Boy, and wear his class ring, padded with string, on my first finger. But I have to give it back to him every afternoon, as both of our parents would freak. Eventually, of course, we forget one night, and parents do freak, and I am not allowed to wear the class ring anymore. Neither of us, of course, sees what the big deal is.
1988. I take my first computer class, in which we learn how to write simple math programs in DOS. I meet Don B. in that class, a computer whiz and fellow 10th grader, who will later become one of the most influential friends of my high school career. High school bf doesn't like me hanging out with him, as he is a loser and a burn-out. I have the guts to tell HSbf that I don't care and he can't pick my friends. Go me.
Iran-Iraq war ends. I have no idea where either of these places is. Political conventions take up most of the summer, severely interfering with my "Days of Our Lives" addiction.
The spring play is MASH, which is really dumb as a play done by high schoolers, but I have a speaking part, so I don't care. I still have my dog tags and green Army pants, bought at the Army/Navy store downtown Ann Arbor. My dad has my dog tags engraved with the date and "good luck." They still hang on my jewelry rack.
The summer after tenth grade, I break up with high-school boyfriend the week before school starts, over the phone, which I realize now must have been incredibly hurtful to him, even though he was very controlling and kind of a jerk. In eleventh grade, I meet the other most influential person I will know in high school, Lisa, one grade younger than me, who is now dating Don. I am slightly jealous. Lisa informs me how much she has always looked up to me, which I find hard to believe. Don is genius level smart but generally despised as even worse than a nerd, an outcast and a burnout. But he is awesome. And her likes me, and thinks I am intelligent and funny. My self-esteem begins, bit-by-bit, to repair itself.
Lloyd Bentson wipes the floor with Dan Quail, but Bush/Quail get elected anyway. Lockerbie plane crash, right before Christmas.
1989. The Satanic Verses. Exxon Valdez. Tiananmen Square. We begin to become very cause aware. A friend and I petition the lunch room to stop using styrofoam trays, and get in the local paper. We start becoming aware of environmental issues. I make a point of doing book reports on banned books in AP English. My government teacher has us running a mini-company, and frequently falls asleep in class.
Interrupting the World Series for the San Francisco earthquake, images on the news that give my nightmares. Jim Bakker goes to jail.
Start senior year. We have two West German exchange students, who immediately fit right in to our little group of "the alternatives" as we like to think of ourselves. We wear a lot of black, Doc Martens before they were cool, the boys shock the teachers by occasionally wearing eye makeup, etc. Needless to say, we have evolved from the drama group. We become the group that could care less what anyone thinks of us. People stay away from us in the lunch room. We have an alternative newspaper, which almost gets us suspended for use of obscenities. I think my smart-kid/nerd/teacher's pet rep actually saved us. We go to dances and head bang to New Kids on the Block, and are quite obviously kept a safe distance from by the jocks, the preps, and the bipsies (our word for those mall hair cheerleader boy-crazy types). We even had a name for that high mall hair bang trend: the bipsie pouf.
In November, the Berlin Wall comes down. We know this is a big deal, but don't quite get the incredibly emotional reactions of our German exchange student friends. We respond viscerally to their tears, and the images on tv. Again the decade ends, along with Part One of my ever-lengthening recap.

Coming soon: part 2, the 90s, and updated links, since I some of them are at home and I am evilly and wrongly updating this at work.

3:14 p.m. - May 31, 2002

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