Those Wacky Decades

Meme from somewhere

In 2011: I will turn 35. I live with my roommate deathpixie and date the lovely ferox. I am coming up on eleven years on my apartment in the Bloor West Village, which has only the advantage of location and price to keep me in it. I am a professional writer working in the corporate world, who is forced to admit that I have essentially dropped freelance journalism from my repertoire to focus on making a living wage and working on fiction.

In 2001: I was 25. I had moved into that apartment about six month before, and my roommate was already floundering at her job and considering a move back to London. In a few months, I’d be dating jbmcdragon, which would continue until 2005. At this point, the apartment was poorly furnished, as I was eking a living out of telemarketing and freelancing. Oddly though, I’d have visitors from out of town every six weeks or so, and DexCon that year would be the second largest in its 13 year history. It would also be the most financially ruinous of all of the cons for me.

In 1991: I was 15. we had just moved from our house on Bradley Ave in London to our new place on Bridlington with the pool and the bizarre passageways. I wasn’t dating anyone, and at 5ft and deeply embedded at the bottom of the social strata at my high school, that wasn’t likely to change at all. (Although, funny side story – thanks to the magic of Facebook, I keep getting pings from people I went to grade 9-10, and the common narrative from the girls is that they all hot for me. Even if that’s true, which I doubt, don’t tell someone that 20 years later. Especially if those years involved vicious isolation, bullying and a desperate wish to be accepted). I worked at a print shop on the weekends, hung out mostly with my friends Lee and Chris, collected comics, RPed and generally dicked around like any teenager.

In 1981: I was 5, living in Oakville, and my world consisted of Star Wars, Sesame Street, and cartoons. That’s about all I got for that.