stealing from cindy
this seemed like a good idea. check out C's blog for the original.
10 years ago this month: february 1996
profoundly, profoundly in love with ARM. well, as profoundly as a 16-year-old can be. oh, first love, so beautiful and devastating ... wait. that's kind of a perfect description of him. beautiful and devastating. anyways. listening to a lot of velvet underground, nirvana, smashing pumpkins, and the kinks. smoking a pack a day and hiding a typical teenage stash of bad weed, joker rolling papers, parliament lights and trojans in my underwear drawer, where, you know, mom would never think to look. writing a lot of reeeeeeeally bad poems. reading A Tidewater Morning by william styron, which remains one of my favorite novels.
8 years ago this month: february 1998
living in a 12x12 box with AS in the south mid-quads at northwestern university. listening to tracy chapman, tori amos and sarah mclachlan. still smoking a pack a day, spending most of my free time smoking outside of smq with AS and YF, who conveniently lived upstairs, and watching repeats of "my so-called life." i identified with angela, i really did. i really, really did. and i could have loved jordan catalano. reading the AP stylebook.
6 years ago this month: february 2000
living in a 12x12 box with TI in delta gamma sorority house, the world's greatest experiment in low-carb dieting. no longer smoking, much to the dismay of everyone who knows me. spent much time — dare i say, all? — embracing a true sister, C, while falling even more in love with Y and AS, and exalting the joys of a bottle plus two glasses of wine and a cheese plate at my bar. liquor begins rapidly taking the place of parliament lights. listening to rage against the machine, beastie boys, and chemical brothers. starting to realize that searching for honesty in life as a journalist is maybe not a copout from writing, but a vocation in writing. reading Nausea by jean-paul sartre.
4 years ago this month: february 2002
living in a 12x12 studio on 105th street in new york city, writing for a trade magazine, ignoring poetry, and falling deeply, deeply, deeply off the wrong side of the mountain into a valley of liquor and sex. well on my way to complete physical and emotional system failure. still jumping everytime a firetruck or ambulance passes me on the street. it is dark. listening to fiona apple, nine inch nails, pj harvey and radiohead. reading nothing.
2 years ago this month: february 2004
still living in a 12x12 studio on 105th street, which has somehow become less suffocating and more charming. made a sad but necessary split from AM, who occupied me off and on for the better part of two years. fell rapidly in love with B, who was different from anybody i'd ever known, ever. wondered why C liked the sullivan room so much. put up Crown Heights, the first show i produced with youth onstage!, and opened my eyes to the concept of independent-party politics. listening to alicia keys, interpol, and a demo of jenny rivera. reading backissues of The New Yorker.
1 year ago this month: february 2005
living with B in a beautiful loft studio in lower manhattan, discovering the joys of baking, domestic life, and preparing for a week-long ski trip to telluride. blissfully, ridiculously, blindly, indulgently in love. gained 12 pounds. writing for women's wear daily. listening to random pop music that B likes. reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being by milan kundera. not writing poetry.
6 months ago this month: september 2005
still recovering from the shock of hearing the words "you can always write on the side" leave B's mouth. clinging to our life together, but beginning to understand that he and i will not be forever. helping my parents prepare for retirement. start spending a significant amount of time trying to decipher people's poker faces. G re-enters my life with gusto, and without my knowing, hops on a ridiculously superaccelerated fast track to joining the ranks of the chosen few. watch Y turn a new leaf with her students, and her role as teacher and caregiver. listening to weezer, and a lot of radiohead. a lot. re-reading The Constructor by john koethe. writing a lot.
today:
living alone in a charming one-bedroom in williamsburg, brooklyn, blocks from Y and C and my new favorite restaurant, moto, and a few subway stops from U & A, G and most of the other important people in my life. a mere $36 gypsy cab ride from AS, but it's only $12 if C and Y and i split the fare. appreciating the joys of egyptian cotton, eating dinner in my underwear, having all the closets to myself, and writing all the time. lonely at times, but starting to appreciate solitude, too. no longer questioning why i have a dark side, but feeling free to explore it. listening to franz ferdinand, madonna, 10,000 maniacs, and more radiohead. reading Middlesex by jeffrey eugenides and my old journals. thankful.
10 years ago this month: february 1996
profoundly, profoundly in love with ARM. well, as profoundly as a 16-year-old can be. oh, first love, so beautiful and devastating ... wait. that's kind of a perfect description of him. beautiful and devastating. anyways. listening to a lot of velvet underground, nirvana, smashing pumpkins, and the kinks. smoking a pack a day and hiding a typical teenage stash of bad weed, joker rolling papers, parliament lights and trojans in my underwear drawer, where, you know, mom would never think to look. writing a lot of reeeeeeeally bad poems. reading A Tidewater Morning by william styron, which remains one of my favorite novels.
8 years ago this month: february 1998
living in a 12x12 box with AS in the south mid-quads at northwestern university. listening to tracy chapman, tori amos and sarah mclachlan. still smoking a pack a day, spending most of my free time smoking outside of smq with AS and YF, who conveniently lived upstairs, and watching repeats of "my so-called life." i identified with angela, i really did. i really, really did. and i could have loved jordan catalano. reading the AP stylebook.
6 years ago this month: february 2000
living in a 12x12 box with TI in delta gamma sorority house, the world's greatest experiment in low-carb dieting. no longer smoking, much to the dismay of everyone who knows me. spent much time — dare i say, all? — embracing a true sister, C, while falling even more in love with Y and AS, and exalting the joys of a bottle plus two glasses of wine and a cheese plate at my bar. liquor begins rapidly taking the place of parliament lights. listening to rage against the machine, beastie boys, and chemical brothers. starting to realize that searching for honesty in life as a journalist is maybe not a copout from writing, but a vocation in writing. reading Nausea by jean-paul sartre.
4 years ago this month: february 2002
living in a 12x12 studio on 105th street in new york city, writing for a trade magazine, ignoring poetry, and falling deeply, deeply, deeply off the wrong side of the mountain into a valley of liquor and sex. well on my way to complete physical and emotional system failure. still jumping everytime a firetruck or ambulance passes me on the street. it is dark. listening to fiona apple, nine inch nails, pj harvey and radiohead. reading nothing.
2 years ago this month: february 2004
still living in a 12x12 studio on 105th street, which has somehow become less suffocating and more charming. made a sad but necessary split from AM, who occupied me off and on for the better part of two years. fell rapidly in love with B, who was different from anybody i'd ever known, ever. wondered why C liked the sullivan room so much. put up Crown Heights, the first show i produced with youth onstage!, and opened my eyes to the concept of independent-party politics. listening to alicia keys, interpol, and a demo of jenny rivera. reading backissues of The New Yorker.
1 year ago this month: february 2005
living with B in a beautiful loft studio in lower manhattan, discovering the joys of baking, domestic life, and preparing for a week-long ski trip to telluride. blissfully, ridiculously, blindly, indulgently in love. gained 12 pounds. writing for women's wear daily. listening to random pop music that B likes. reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being by milan kundera. not writing poetry.
6 months ago this month: september 2005
still recovering from the shock of hearing the words "you can always write on the side" leave B's mouth. clinging to our life together, but beginning to understand that he and i will not be forever. helping my parents prepare for retirement. start spending a significant amount of time trying to decipher people's poker faces. G re-enters my life with gusto, and without my knowing, hops on a ridiculously superaccelerated fast track to joining the ranks of the chosen few. watch Y turn a new leaf with her students, and her role as teacher and caregiver. listening to weezer, and a lot of radiohead. a lot. re-reading The Constructor by john koethe. writing a lot.
today:
living alone in a charming one-bedroom in williamsburg, brooklyn, blocks from Y and C and my new favorite restaurant, moto, and a few subway stops from U & A, G and most of the other important people in my life. a mere $36 gypsy cab ride from AS, but it's only $12 if C and Y and i split the fare. appreciating the joys of egyptian cotton, eating dinner in my underwear, having all the closets to myself, and writing all the time. lonely at times, but starting to appreciate solitude, too. no longer questioning why i have a dark side, but feeling free to explore it. listening to franz ferdinand, madonna, 10,000 maniacs, and more radiohead. reading Middlesex by jeffrey eugenides and my old journals. thankful.
posted by Amy S. Choi at 11:37 PM
10 Comments:
crazy to think about, yes? seriously, all i really remember about that feb 2000 era was the amount of friggin wine we drank every.single.night.
i think you and i together paid for tony's mortgage. if the man had a mortgage. every.single.night.
uh...in february 1998 you started dating the only guy who was never a total asshole. but i can understand how 'my so called life' was important...really, i can. punk.
what-EV-er! we started dating in january. punk. get your ass down from boston for amy's second annual. how important could working with harvard professors be?
wrong! we hooked up in january, fought like caged wolverines, then stopped talking until my birthday...in february. eat it!
"caged wolverines"
nice sean, i like it.
ohhhhhhhhh. crap. birthday. maggiano's. driving through that haunted forest. it's all coming back to me. i eat it, i eat it.
damn right. i know you're new to this blogging thing, but its not a venue for revising history...stalin! ok, sorry...but this is just too damn funny.
Ten years ago, I was starting the years-long process of getting over Adam Balling. We had sex, but none of my other friends were doing it, so I had no one to talk to about it. Too bad you and I weren't better friends!
adam balling! oh elizabeth. i think we could have been kindred spirits. if i wasn't so busy being a chump.
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