Friday, August 27, 2010
but still less embarrassing than my current Jonas Brothers fixation. It simply does not get cuter than this.
I mean, um, Arcade Fire.*
*But, no joke, their new album is really good. I thought about reviewing it. Then I thought about something else.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Dear 30 year old Kaitlin,
I wonder what you're up to right now. You probably won't remember to come back here and read this in nearly eleven years. You don’t have a very good memory and, let’s face it; these things don’t get better with age.
Let me tell you about what I know best, which is right now, the present. You’re 19 years, 5 months, and 22 days old, going back for your sophomore year of college in Albany in a week and a half. You’re excited to get out of your small town. In spring, you’re going to London (hopefully, more on that later) and you are unspeakably pumped for that. A little apprehensive, but so excited. Remember back to that, because anticipation is beautiful. I hope you have a lot to anticipate.
Seeing as I don’t have much idea what I want to be doing right now, in this moment, it’s hard to predict what you’re making your living on. Whether you changed my major or changed my college or changed my life. No matter what, I hope you are prosperous. At the moment, I’m in financial woe and it’s hard to be doing everything I want to do, including the English semester, and while I don’t hope that you are filthy rich because I don’t think our conscious could handle that, I hope you’re comfortable and don’t want for anything. And learn how to budget, Kaitlin, please.
Let’s get down to business. I hide it pretty well with cynicism and sarcasm but at heart I’m a romantic and that’s why I say this: I hope you’re in love. You aren’t right now, and have never been, and as a product of Disney and romantic comedies, would rather like such an opportunity. I hope you’ve been putting yourself out there, maybe I’ll learn. I hope he’s gorgeous and writes songs for you and lets you drive and makes you laugh. I hope you never doubt him. I don’t want to have children right now, but everybody tells me I’ll change my mind so you’ll have to let me know. But between you and me, I know it’s a sort of inherent fear of being pregnant and being a bad mother (we like kids, but we get so frustrated and glad to give them back at the end of the day!) so we’ll see how that pans out.
I hope you’re still in touch with all the best friends we’ve made, in high school and in college and in life, and I hope they’re all ecstatically happy and that we get together for nostalgic golf cart rides, that our children call each of us “Aunt”.
I hope you’re still playing guitar and writing. You know how we go all frustrated without an outlet. Maybe you’re a published author, but that’s probably wishful thinking. We aren’t very ambitious, but as long as you’re not working at McDonald’s. Scratch that, be ambitious. Our laziness disgusts me.
Make all my dreams come true. If you’re dead, I hope you went out with a bang and not through something horrifyingly stupid.
I hope you’re proud of the last 11 years. It seems like a long time now, but I wonder what ten years feels like to a 30 year old. To me, it’s almost unfathomably long. I barely remember being 9, let alone like it was yesterday. How well do you remember this 18th of August, 2010 AD, riding the train home?*
Anyway. Love music, love people, love everything, and I hope you’re happy, but if you dress like an old woman or have mom hair, I'll kill you.
Love, 19 year old Kaitlin.
* You finished Ender’s Game (Emilie lent it to you), watched two episodes of Doctor Who (the season 5 finale, you almost cried), listened to Band of Horses, Les Miserables, and the Arcade Fire, and started Siddhartha. Altogether very productive.
This is you on the train today. It's dark cause trains are dark but I didn't try very hard to get a light picture. My hair's too long and needs a haircut, and that's my favorite purple plaid shirt.