General Lunacy

The Secret to Time Travel

Lately, I’ve been time-traveling.

Yes, I am that powerful, and as such am capable of mastering quantum physics. Ask me how! Just send forty dollars in unmarked bills and a self-addressed, stamped envelope to obtain access to my written treatise on the secret science of time travel.

*Cough*

It all started innocently enough – a few weeks back I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky, for an online book club. For those not in the know, it’s a heart-rending coming-of-age story that takes place during some vague point in the early 1990’s.

The 1990’s.

This is a period in history during which I was an impressionable child-on-the-verge-of-teenagedom, just as I was forming ideas of what constitutes “cool” and other cultural and social constructs. This is a critical point in a person’s development, and I did not escape unscathed from the social revolution taking place around me.

Behold me at thirteen:

Hair: Weird-Ass Punky Color Green Streaks. Shirt: Obligatory Alice in Chains Jar of Flies tee. Flannel: Second-Hand from my Uncle. Jeans: Self-ripped. Shoes: Doc Martens, What Else?

Yes I was freakishly tall. Stop pointing it out already.

By middle school, I’d developed a comprehensive knowledge of the grunge and alternative rock catalogue, an unhealthy preoccupation with Kurt Cobain, and an abiding love for black nail polish, Punky Color, and my Doc Martens (which I wore until they grew fuzzy gray mold in the closet eleven years later, so I really got my money’s worth out of that Christmas/birthday present).

So after absorbing the book in a quick twenty-four hours, I started having flashbacks of everything I loved so much about the 90’s alternative scene (I’m just calling it that for the sake of ease and accessibility – purists, hold your protests over that nomenclature and get over yourselves). The music was the best part for me; my first loves were mainstream according to what was available to a thirteen year old at the time, like Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, early Smashing Pumpkins (nothing after Pisces Iscariot – you know Mellon Collie sucked!), but grew to include The Lovemongers, Tori Amos, The Cure, The Indigo Girls, and so many others. My binder was a swirling graffiti of band logos I drew when I was bored in class (which was a lot).

I also loved the movies and TV shows of that period, though they did not have quite the level of angst-y impact on me. Wayne’s World (both I and II) were frequently quoted in my house during those years. Friends was also a favorite, and later Seinfeld (when I was old enough to get the jokes). And no teenage girl got away without watching My So-Called Life. If you didn’t watch it, you missed out on all the searing woundedness of suburban oppression and the desire to break away from the materialism characteristic of the prior generation. What a bleedin’ depressing show.

Reading this book took me right back there – back to when baby doll tee shirts were en vogue and a constant stream of Silverchair poured from my tape deck. I remembered what it felt like to be young and ill-fitting in the shallow, Southern California bubblegum world I inhabited, and how I found the courage to be different through music. I remembered  learning that there was a whole big world out there, full of diverse ideas and people who might one day embrace my quirkiness. Okay, weirdness.

I gradually found myself pulling out my old cassettes (yes I still have them – why would I throw out perfectly good music? Stop making fun of me!), found myself watching Empire Records and a few Friends reruns, found myself putting Wayne’s World (both I and II) on my Netflix queue. Mike has never seen Wayne’s World, and I don’t even know what to say about that.

The situation has deteriorated rapidly into a tailspin of grunge bands and 90’s comedy movies. Those privy to my Twitter and Facebook feeds have probably noticed a spike in my use of such terminology as “damn the man” and my references to 90’s musical legends such as The Violent Femmes, which has been on repeat on my stereo, along with Closer to FineI’m even contemplating revamping my look with some Punky Color. I still have a flannel in my drawer, too. This is nearing crisis-mode.

I’ll come back to 2012 eventually, but right now, I’m having fun remembering everything I loved and hated about being young in the 90’s. You beautiful, smelly, weirdly terrific decade.

http://youtu.be/1mWRAhy1dcw

Yes, I did want to move to Portland when I was thirteen. Why do you ask?

10 Comments

  • Jenn

    This is my favorite blog post so far, and that’s saying a lot. Your blog is amazing. You really brought me back to a happy place. I remember those days well and loved sharing them with you. I think of you daily on my trip to/from work, as I listen to my Alice In Chains pandora channel. Watching reruns of My So-Called Life makes me remember what an awesome/depressing show that was, and I always wonder, why it never got picked up for more than one season. It did touch on a lot of the issues we were trying to wrap our heads around at that age though. Drugs, alcohol, homosexuality, abuse, sex and rape. We needed that to know that we weren’t the only ones going through things like that. Keep up the amazing writing, I promise I’ll keep reading. Xoxo

  • Mia

    It WAS weirdly terrific. Remember when you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing Sheryl Crow sing “If It Makes You Happy,” and when black nail polish was genuinely edgy, and we all cared a lot about whether Ross and Rachel would ever make it work…Anyway. I’ve actually been thinking about picking up The Perks of Being a Wallflower…maybe now I will.

  • Nicole Ricci

    You just vividly awakened memories of a unforgettable era in my life! And, in the exact identical format of how I remember those years! Only one Memory we have is different: The Docs. I couldn’t get my parents to agree to let me buy them, or to buy them for me, & they consistently disapproved, (On a regular basis of me asking ). So, I was forced to settle. I had no choice but to sport the knock-off Pay-Less yellow men’s work boots instead… But it didn’t matter, any tan/yellow boot was better then no boot at that point in my life.:)

    • Natalie the Singingfool

      I had to beg for a while, and they were both a Christmas AND birthday present. I sported the knock-offs the previous year, and they promptly fell apart, which was part of the draw – I promised to wear them forever. You’re right – any boot was better than no boot!

  • Lindsey

    Oh God, flashbacks of flannel shirts, my first time in a mosh pit, Boon’s Farm, Green Day, WEEZER! I love this post, I love it so much. That’s it. I now officially have an enormous crush on you. Don’t be frightened, I mean it in the nerdiest, writery way possible. Thanks for being one of my favorite bloggers 🙂

    • Natalie the Singingfool

      *Giggle and bat eyelashes* How could you come of age in the nineties and NOT be affected by Dookie and the blue Weezer album??? I STILL pop that blue album in once in a while, and I still sing along to “Basket Case” when it comes on in the car! 😉

  • Stacie

    I love this more than life itself. The 90s were both the best and worst times for me and I swear I learned everything I will ever need to know in that decade. Like how to tame frizzy hair and plop contact lenses into my eyeballs….you know, the important stuff.

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