date: 09.22.2002
entitled: "Generation-WHAT?"


There has been much hullabaloo amongst close friends and acquaintances as of late, regarding the boundary line between Generation X and Generation Y. I�ve always felt that I was part of Generation X, as I was a teenager when Douglas Coupland�s book, �Generation X� was released. Also, as I matured, I identified much more with my older sister�s lifestyle, and she was born in 1974. But here�s the kicker: I was born in 1977, and this happens to be the beginning of Generation Y. It is a little baffling that something I have believed for so long was false all along. It�s also quite belittling, as I feel I�ve been stripped of a portion of my identity � I don�t want to belong with all these kids who are so much younger than me. Sonuvabitch. The first time I noticed the tobacco purchase age sign at the local convenience store had clicked over to the 80�s, I nearly wet my pants � it made me feel so old � I remember the 80�s so well. But, alas, technically, Generation Y-ers were those born between 1977 and 1995. My 8-year-old niece is at the end threshold, and I am at the beginning. Now that seems strange, as I remember wiping her little diaper-rash�d butt.

I suppose I should just accept this fact, since Gen Y-ers are supposed to be much more ambitious and technology-savvy than Gen X-ers. But we are supposedly more materialistic, more likely to marry at a young age, and have larger families. Oh, and supposedly there is a large increase in moral and family values, along with religion. Greaaat, just what we need more of, kids: shit loads of righties. Jesus h. Since I�m at the head of this group, who, by the way, makes up 21% of the US population, I guess I�m just going to have to take hold of the reigns and steer us in the right direction. Here is the source of my information and dismay, for those who are interested to know more: Faces of the New Millenium

On an unrelated note, Joe and I climbed the side of a mountain today. Yes, a fucking mountain. We took a train to Bear Mountain State Park, and partook in a grueling, 2-hour hike, stopping about every 5 minutes to catch our breath and wipe the sweat from our brows. Ok, well, I�m the one who actually needed to stop so often. I�d like to blame it on the fatigue my antibiotics (for my recent urinary tract infection) are claimed to cause, but to be perfectly honest my heart is just out of shape. See? I�m already feeling the effects of old age, and they say I belong to Generation Y. Tsk, tsk. I�ll show them my next EKG � bastards.


song stuck in my head:

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