where the hell was I?

Twenty years ago: I was spending all my time with my friends Katie and Katie and the rest of the neighborhood crew... riding bikes, lemonade stands, a thousand modified versions of capture the flag, reading the Ramona books, cutthroat sticker trading and negotiation of scratch and sniff vs. glittery, collecting Garbage Pail Kids and charm necklaces. My friend Jeff unceremoniously kicked out my front tooth when we were rolling down the hill in my backyard; luckily it was a baby tooth. He's told me that I can kick out one of his so we're even; I may take him up on this offer right before his wedding in August.

Ten years ago: It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college, and I spent those few months working as a receptionist at the company that my dad worked for at the time. I basically spent the day poking around online (the internet was still a bit of a novelty) in air-conditioning, which are the only ingredients necessary for a sweet college gig. We had a company-wide instant messenger type thing, and I used to send my dad messages asking him to bring me a Diet Coke from the soda machine in the hall, because my boss wanted me to stay at my desk all day. She couldn't figure out why that middle-aged guy from engineering was always coming by to talk to me, and she'd glare at him until she found out that he was my dad. It was fun to let her figure that out on her own. What else? I was dating Justin, as I always did when I was home on break. Ahh, functional relationships. (Is it awful of me to point out that my spell check wanted to change his name to Justine? See my "young love" entry from March of this year if you don't know that whole story.)

Five years ago: That was my summer of debauchery. I was living in my beloved apartment in Watertown. It started with the fact that my company was having periodic layoffs and I was the latest one taken down. I came home in a daze and pushed the button on the answering machine to listen to messages, but then called a friend to tell her my news before the messages had finished playing. We began plotting a big night out to celebrate my unemployment; then my roommate came home and got in on the plans, too. Then I made everyone stop talking because I could still hear the messages playing in the background; one of them was from Steve, whom I'd just met the previous weekend, asking if I wanted to hang out sometime. At the end of the message, my roommate said, "That guy is awesome!" which may have been the only thing that she and I ever agreed on. He couldn't have come into my life at a more random or perfect time. I had no job, it was the beginning of the summer, and the next few months progressed as you might expect. I returned to the working world, and Earth, in September.

One year ago: Lots of Cape, a little bit of Mexico, post-Mexico parasite, that eHarmony wedding, a bunch of other weddings, Sox games and late nights... that summer was a little debaucherous, too, now that I think about it.

Six months ago: Damn, I don't know. Merry Christmas.

Yesterday: Got to Dorie's at the crack of dawn for a last minute babysittage for her two kids. We spent hours playing kickball, monkey in the middle, and soccer, or more accurately, "There's no way you're playing soccer without your shoes on; if you get hurt, what's your mom going to say when she hears that I let you play barefoot?" I stayed until her husband got home from court (lawyer, not defendant). I love her husband and want to meet someone like him, only my age. She encourages me to just take him, but that's a little bit too Lifetime movie for me. My name may rhyme with homewrecka but I ain't one. Hmm, I think I just came up with the title of my autobiography.

Today: Well, I'm off work and between vacations and I'm really just doing laundry and packing, so my big excitement of today was that I went to the dentist. I love going to the dentist! Suburban parents like to finish their basements and then finish their kids, so my childhood was all about getting my braces tightened and bubble gum-flavored fluoride treatments and trying to sleep while wearing a retainer. Now my visits are drama-free and I love having my teeth cleaned; even when they're mining for plaque and using their evil whirring toothbrush and spit suckage machine, you know your mouth is going to be happy afterwards. I'd never had a cavity before, but I had a little one this time, damn my near-perfect record. I go to the same dentist that I went to when I was a kid and she always praises me for brushing well, like I'm still six. I secretly love my semiannual congratulations from her. My hygenist was sharing all the details of her life with me and said "my fiancee" about 400 times. At one point she said, "I don't know why I'm telling you all this!" which is the same thing that my pedicurist said to me the other day. I don't know why they do either, but random people are always telling me their life stories.

Tomorrow: More laundry, packing, iPod updating, and peach binging because I have four in my fridge that will go bad if I don't eat them before I leave on Sunday.