census meme
Mar. 10th, 2011 07:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady72011: I live in Buffalo, NY. I am thirty-one. I work in a camera store. I still haven't finished/edited/submitted a novel. I have been doing roller derby for 5 years. I've had the same boyfriend for 9 years; I've relocated with him from Jersey City to Westchester County to Buffalo, and we're tired of moving house so we're staying here (we've been here 6 years). We live in his great-aunt's former house, and share a small gray cat, Chita Rivera.
2001: I live in Rochester, NY. I am 21. It's my junior year of college. I live in a house with three or four other people, including an engaged couple, and I'm a little tired of being the third wheel. One of my roommates introduces me to Dave in December 2001, so I haven't met him yet but I will soon. I don't have a boyfriend; I've never had a long-term boyfriend. I think I was sort of seeing a boy intermittently for some months of this year; he has a Livejournal and I read it, but it doesn't occur to me to get one of my own until a little later. I win a $1,000 prize in a short-story writing contest for a hypertext; I am determined that this perpetually-unfinished novel with the dragons in it, which I've been working on a decade now, will be adapted to non-linear form through the magic of new computer technology and it will be my magnum opus, but I'm sketchy on how to achieve this. (That prize will be the only time I'm paid for writing fiction, to date.) The household has two cats, a big gray one named Bailey and a little tuxedo girl named Oreo.
1991: I am 11 years old. I live with my parents and my 3 sisters in Melrose, NY. I decide on New Year's Day that I'm going to begin my first novel, because of course I am going to be a novelist. It is about dragons. I collaborate on it with my friend Abbie. We role-play our scenes. There's a lot of sex and torture, since we don't know much about either, being 11-year-old girls. She cribs heavily from Disney movies, which seems unnecessary to me. The novel, incidentally, begins life as Dragonriders of Pern fanfiction, but we quickly decide that dragons could be way cooler than that, and our dragons are twice the size and also much, much more psychokinetic. Also our world has massive social injustices that must be righted. And it gets increasingly complex as we go on, until we both go away to college years later. I have three cats and a dog, I think-- Cupcake, Oscar, and Cellar are the cats, and Biscuit is the dog.
1981: I am 1 year old. I live in Melrose, NY. I have one sister (the second of three is born in December of this year). I have no particular memories of this age; for some reason all my early childhood memories are of an endless barefoot sun-drenched summertime, playing outdoors or pushing through the screen door into the dark fragrant kitchen. I know this is the year I have my first major asthma attack, for which I am hospitalized, but I don't know what month it was. We have a young cat named Cupcake, who scratches my older sister so badly she gets cat scratch fever (it's a real thing), and a young dog named Biscuit, and no other pets yet. With my white skin and two big brown birthmarks, and the dog and cat's pale-brown-and-white coloring, we're a matched set. I know this wasn't on purpose-- my parents are not the kind of people to get coordinating animals. Biscuit looks just like my mother's beloved mutt Doughnut, who predated Dad and had disappeared shortly before I was born; Cupcake was the luck of the draw at the humane society. Neither of my parents are cat people, especially, but the house, which they got very cheaply because it had been abandoned for years, is badly infested with rodents, and they need a good mouser, which Cupcake proves to be. (When still a kitten, he kills a rat almost his own size, in the nursery.)
2001: I live in Rochester, NY. I am 21. It's my junior year of college. I live in a house with three or four other people, including an engaged couple, and I'm a little tired of being the third wheel. One of my roommates introduces me to Dave in December 2001, so I haven't met him yet but I will soon. I don't have a boyfriend; I've never had a long-term boyfriend. I think I was sort of seeing a boy intermittently for some months of this year; he has a Livejournal and I read it, but it doesn't occur to me to get one of my own until a little later. I win a $1,000 prize in a short-story writing contest for a hypertext; I am determined that this perpetually-unfinished novel with the dragons in it, which I've been working on a decade now, will be adapted to non-linear form through the magic of new computer technology and it will be my magnum opus, but I'm sketchy on how to achieve this. (That prize will be the only time I'm paid for writing fiction, to date.) The household has two cats, a big gray one named Bailey and a little tuxedo girl named Oreo.
1991: I am 11 years old. I live with my parents and my 3 sisters in Melrose, NY. I decide on New Year's Day that I'm going to begin my first novel, because of course I am going to be a novelist. It is about dragons. I collaborate on it with my friend Abbie. We role-play our scenes. There's a lot of sex and torture, since we don't know much about either, being 11-year-old girls. She cribs heavily from Disney movies, which seems unnecessary to me. The novel, incidentally, begins life as Dragonriders of Pern fanfiction, but we quickly decide that dragons could be way cooler than that, and our dragons are twice the size and also much, much more psychokinetic. Also our world has massive social injustices that must be righted. And it gets increasingly complex as we go on, until we both go away to college years later. I have three cats and a dog, I think-- Cupcake, Oscar, and Cellar are the cats, and Biscuit is the dog.
1981: I am 1 year old. I live in Melrose, NY. I have one sister (the second of three is born in December of this year). I have no particular memories of this age; for some reason all my early childhood memories are of an endless barefoot sun-drenched summertime, playing outdoors or pushing through the screen door into the dark fragrant kitchen. I know this is the year I have my first major asthma attack, for which I am hospitalized, but I don't know what month it was. We have a young cat named Cupcake, who scratches my older sister so badly she gets cat scratch fever (it's a real thing), and a young dog named Biscuit, and no other pets yet. With my white skin and two big brown birthmarks, and the dog and cat's pale-brown-and-white coloring, we're a matched set. I know this wasn't on purpose-- my parents are not the kind of people to get coordinating animals. Biscuit looks just like my mother's beloved mutt Doughnut, who predated Dad and had disappeared shortly before I was born; Cupcake was the luck of the draw at the humane society. Neither of my parents are cat people, especially, but the house, which they got very cheaply because it had been abandoned for years, is badly infested with rodents, and they need a good mouser, which Cupcake proves to be. (When still a kitten, he kills a rat almost his own size, in the nursery.)
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Date: 2011-03-11 12:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-11 04:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-11 05:19 am (UTC)