So, I was flipping through channels on the tube* tonight, and stopped on a
segment of 60 Minutes in which they were trying to prove that homosexuality was genetic, detectable in childhood videos, and basically that righties with many older brothers are destined to be gay...highly debatable, stupid, yet entertaining (surely why 60 Minutes would go to the trouble of interviewing a hilarious looking man, appropriately enough called Dr. Breedlove (!), who reduces testosterone in male rats and enjoys seeing two males go at it, one male convinced he can have a female orgasm- rat porn at it's best, really). Anyways, not the point. They then showed a segment on a
piece they did 20 years ago, with totally wild predictions for the year 2001 (insert '2 0 0 1' written in then-futuristic sci-fi floating digital graphics). And this has gotten me thinking...
Soon is September, where was I last year, where am I now, and where the bleeping hell will I be next year...
*[ Note: I say
tube ironically because the tv, a loaner from my bro (mine is destined for garbage on Monday, it was at point where intense smacking had to be performed to obtain an image, and has basically been like a big figurine to dust over the past two years) now has a tendency, because of ever-decreasing tube capacity, to cut off the bottom portion of the image (ie all important temperature strip on the Weather Channel) AND absurdly stretch the top portion of image, thus making all persons into ridiculous looking Coneheads with Foreheads From Hell. Every channel looks like the Space Channel now, lovely...]
SEPTEMBER 2005:- I had just completed my DESS, a part-time return to school (for the fun of it) after a five-year career-gal stint (ie burnout) and embarking on my Master's
- I was a student, which meant library priviledges, student discounts, wardrobe alternating between 8 pairs of jeans and 5 t-shirts, the colour of my belt being my biggest wardrobe challenge, and drinking double-espressos like there was no tomorrow (there was no tomorrow, it was all one looong day!)
- I was single and looking (and had dated more in 6 months than in my entire life)
- I was newly (and voluntarily) unemployed from fancy job where I got to tell people what to do, pick pretty colours, and was paid over 20$/hour, clear, to do so
- I was more tanned than I have ever been in my life (I.D. pic proves it)
- My hair was longer than it had been in 10 years; I had one grey hair
- I was financially stable, or so I thought
- I had just spent the most kickass 'Fukluv' summer, thanks to the invicible singleton trio
SEPTEMBER 2006:- I have completed my Master's (apart from an annoying 'RW' still lingering for my summer course, whatever RW means... rewind? right way? Richard Wright? rolling waters? re-writable? rage withheld?)
- In a matter of days, I will no longer be a student
- I now drink lattes, wear jeans on my days off only (and always the same pair, I dont bother with a belt, really), and should really return my library books before they charge the hell outta non-student-me, but must remove over 100 post-its tagging 'important' pages beforehand.
- I had bf, who then was .exe, then re-bf, and has now regained full-fledged bf status (this in itself is pretty damn earth-shattering)
- I have super part-time museum job and the world is my oyster
- I'm pale (I.D. pic proves it - one lady refused to believe that was me on last year's pic recently)
- My hair is re-short; I precently plucked that one grey hair (yes, one grey hair, bugger off)
- I'm poor (but pretty-poor :) and I snatched 20$ from bf this morn (he knows)
- I spent summer working at 10.50$/hour, covered in red-rot
- The Fukluv's were banished due to the non-singleton status of all members (and one bloody member moving to a bleeping deserted island, making road trips a wee bit harder to organize)
SEPTEMBER 2007 predictions:- I will not be a student
- RW on transcript will have been replaced by a more obscure acronym like FD, or XS, or maybe even LMAO
- I will still be claiming student discounts (hey, the card says valid until 2009, man!)
- I will have gained 20 pounds from all those darn lattes (but look skinnier, of course), no longer fit in jeans, and pair worn all of last year will now be either cutoffs I wear indoors and which give me a prominent muffintop, or sewn into a lovely headband with cool matching jean bracelet (you have to get crafty when you are poor)
- I will still be removing post-its from books and library will have sent recovery agent to re-posses my couch, computer, and tv, the defect having crept up like a sad disease and it now displaying only the forehead of persons stretched over 27 inches... forehead porn, really.
- Bf will have pursued me in justice for 20$ I 'borrowed', and lost his case since I will have flashed hot-ass judge some boob action (after taking 20$ from him, of course). Bf and I will have incredible make-up sex during plane ride back to his deserted W.O.W. island with side-by-side his and hers mansions bf will have spent the year building whilst pining over me (the 20$ lawsuit a mere pretext for his chance to re-re-woo me with an eternal love declaration, marked by so-so firework display over island and skywriting saying "I wuv you, Bouffycakes")
- I will now own museum, and shall not even finish this thought for fear of losing current job and jinxing potential museal domination (ohhhh, it is tempting, and really funny, for those in the know)
- I will be tanned once again, due to my perfection of secret lotion rendering me wonderfully orange for merely pennies a day
- I will have hair extensions (thus the need for jean headband) and dye my hair grey, just to piss of people who have grey hair
- I will be living off my looks and the odd 20$ I snatch from unsuspecting friends and family
- My summers will be spent trying to figure out where the loos are on W.O.W. island
- The Fukluv's will have a reunion, reminiscing about 'the good old days' over lobsters in the woods, dressed as Wookies, and will have achieved their ultimate mandate: to prove the Brain-Freeze Theorem
"The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades..."
Recent jaunt to pharmacy, and decision to buy much needed lipsyl, since current tube is down to a stubby little end. I am a Labello Hydro Care girl (this product falls into the 'sophisticated care' category according to the site, confirming a high-maintenance I am trying to deny. I will argue that I hardly consider 1.29$ sophisticated care...), but the shiny pale blue cover is nowhere in sight... So, I fall for the typical marketing ploy, and decide to let my lips take the bright 'NEW FLAVOUR!' called Grape for a test drive, telling myself that I would at least get in some good licking.
