After perusing images, songs, videos, and whatever I've determined that I'm trapped somewhere between 2000 and 2015, which I guess makes sense because those were my "growing up" years. Let's be real, it could be way worse than jean shorts and beanies, indie rock, and the height of Marvel cinematic fandom.

I try to envision what that means for my future. Will I be the mom who embarrasses her kids with my retro fit-kit, blasting the Chastity Belt debut album from my soft-top Rav4 in the school pickup line?

It's not likely I'll ever be a mom, but the thought pops up anyway. Is that weird? Or just biology having its say?

I like a lot of things that are out of date or out of style, I read classical literature because I like it, I'm an audiophile who prefers alt and old music over top 40 pop-rock, I have an attitude too big for my body, and I don't care what you have to say about it.

So maybe I'm not trapped in 2010, but earlier, like 1990, or even before that. My youngest brother is still 12 years older than me, which basically means I missed the core millennial experience altogether. Bros are all elder millennial and mom and dad are elder gen-x. Nana lived through the depression, and she probably had more influence on my upbringing than anyone else except my well-traveled aunt... my perspective isn't typical of a 23 year old living life in the 2020's.

In other news, I found my doppleganger on TikTok, channeling my punk era like a queen, and she's way braver with her hair and piercings than I am. I want to raid her closet after seeing her successfully pulling off those looks without fronting like a goth tween. It's funny how much height factors into what you can wear, and I don't mean clothing size.

That's about all I have to say for today, so be sure to thank me for not bogging you down with the toilings of my fractured mind.