kicking puppies is bad

A friend of mine has a crush on the “Open Face Sandwich Eatery” waitress (who is possibly named Pauline). Actually, everyone I know that has met Pauline(?) has a crush on her. Being the internet stalker that I am, I decided to help him find out more about her. I found out her name (I think), and with that information I found her myspace page. Now *I* have a crush on the “Open Face” waitress (a self proclaimed “vegan pro-choice feminist cancerous fire breathing bitch”). It isn’t an I want to do her crush. It is an I miss 19 year old me crush. Its an Oh, my God, I’m turning into a Soccer Mom! What happened to riotgrrl me? crush.

You see, at 19, I was fairly awesome. I was a purple-haired, punktress force to be reckoned with. I was an Electronic Art Major filled with angst. I protested for animal rights, human rights, and womyn’s rights. I protested against sweatshops, conservative values, and the state of Indiana. I founded the campus Womyn Student’s Association (and was it’s first president). I (almost single handedly) got one of the more offensive fraternaties permanently banned from campus. Ok, their bad behavior had a lot to do with it, but I was the one who documented it on video and constantly brought it to the attention of the admin so they couldn’t ignore it. Which they otherwise would have. They had been ignoring it for years. I read Chomsky and listened to angry girl punk music. My friends were angst filled vegans with drug issues. And (although I didn’t see it at the time) I bet everyone who met me probably had a crush on me. Basically, I was Pauline, the “Open Face” waitress. I was *that* cool. And I graduated college with 2 majors and high honors in 3 years. At which point I was the youngest person accepted to my PhD program (at 20). I rocked.

In grad school, I was still fairly awesome. I had to cut off all the purple hair. I had dyed it too much and it was falling out – but the spikey maroon hair was still fairly punk. I lived in a fabulous loft above a crazy goth club that was eventually shut down because of drug issues. I had intellectual graduate student friends and we stayed up all night discussing philosophy and cognitive theory while drinking gin and tonic. While I was still slightly edgy, I had to teach (Child Development), and was required to “look respectable”. I may have been seen (at some point) wearing khakis from Eddie Bauer – but this was definately not the norm.

I left graduate school (without my PhD – its a long story). I took a job for the government. I moved to San Francisco where I somehow met some very cool people. I hung out with a crowd from google and with one of the Battle Bots Teams. I lived in an apartment that my friends affectionately termed “Ghetto Shack”. It was 300 square feet, divided into 2 floors. The bottom floor was a small kitchen. In the middle of the kitchen was a shower stall. Inside the shower stall was a toilet. I called this room the “bitchen” (1/2 bathroom, 1/2 kitchen). I drove a fantastic 1979 volvo with a hand-crank sunroof. It was a horrible color somewhere between nasty barf orange and poop brown. I loved that car. It cost me $700. But, working for the government, I started to look like a normal person. I was no longer the 112 lb anorexic purple haired riotgrrl that I remembered. I wore jeans and had brown hair and weighed a completely stable respectable 140 lbs. My awesomeness factor had started to decline.

Then I moved back to Rochester. I bought a (fantastic 1920′s historical poured concrete) house in the SUBURBS (designed by Kate Gleason). I had 3 days to find a car before I started working – and in my hurry I ended up with a 2000 Mitsubishi Gallant (and there isn’t really *anything* cool about that). My hair is brown, and most days I look more like a soccer mom than a riotgrrl. I work eight hours a day in a cubicle. I am unlikely to be found at a political protest. While I’m still convinced I can change the world, I find volunteering more effective than protesting. Meredith (my *everything* when I was 19) said she would kill herself when she turned 25. And I’m pretty sure that her reason was that she didn’t want to turn become everything that I am now. Sometimes I really miss 19 year old me.