I don’t fit.
According to the “scientists” at Buzzfeed, I don’t fit anywhere. Specifically, Buzzfeed experts told me I’m “the Jan Brady of generations.”
See that Buzzfeed? That’s my Jan Brady side eye telling you to watch your step from now on.
But I get it. I really don’t fit in. I’m neither Generation X nor Y. I am somewhere in between.
I can’t really blame Buzzfeed. I mean, here’s just a smattering of the data they had to work with…
Things That Make Me Somewhat Generation X
- I played with Popples and Pogs as a kid
- I listened to En Vogue and Smashing Pumpkins
- I wore a lot of side ponies, stirrup legging pants, and curled my bangs (picture it, I’m HOT)
- I was spanked and hit with a wooden spoon (and no one could’ve cared less)
- I typed my school papers on a word processor (that I believe was possessed by the Devil – but that’s for another blog post…)
- I downloaded songs on Napster
- I had a MySpace page
- I watched movies like Reality Bites and Singles and The Truth About Cats and Dogs over and over again…on VHS
- I had an email that ended in @magicfishfood.com (WTF? really?? Yes, really.)
Things That Make Me Somewhat Generation Y
- I want all the things and I want them now
- I like Taylor Swift songs and Katy Perry songs
- I had a Tamagatchi pet
- All my school supplies were decorated in Lisa Frank artwork
- I want all the things and I want them now
- I grew up with computers in my school
- I had a plethora of beanie babies
- I now share my entire life on social media and I like taking selfies
- I got my best fashion advice from Sabrina, the Teenage Witch (let’s talk butterfly clips, shall we?)
- I owned about 100 Dr Pepper Lip Smacker chapsticks over the course of my early teen years
- I want all the things and I want them now – (Seriously, where are all my things? Shouldn’t I have them by now? Ugh…waiting sucks.)
So, what am I?
Fuck, I am the Jan Brady of Generations.
I was born smack in the middle of the 80’s, as an oops baby no less, which means I was raised by my Gen X siblings while my Baby Boomer parents worked all day and only had enough energy to instill two rules. 1) Say please and thank you around all grown ups. 2) Drink coca cola. (But I’m partially Gen Y, so I rebelled and prefer Pepsi when given the choice.)
Now that I’m an adult, I look around at who my friends are, and apart from the handful of High School chums I still see around major holidays, my two best friends are exactly the same ages as my older sister and brother. How weird is that? That I picked the exact number of years in age gap as what I grew up with? This sets my besties firmly in Gen X. That means I can count on them to throw a super rad 80’s party, to never being afraid of playing with eyeshadow, and to tell me when it’s appropriate to cuff or not cuff one’s pants. (Of course, I’m part Gen Y so they’ve gotten use to me documenting all of this.)
I can’t claim total belonging to just one group, but I can claim just enough of the good stuff to make me believe that I’ll always have someone talk to. And that I won’t have to eat my lunch from the inside of a bathroom stall. And I think that’s winning.
How about you? What generation do you fit in?
Let the experts at Buzzfeed be your guide.
Hello Readers, and welcome to the Happiness Project. It’s been a particularly stressful day following a particularly stressful week involving closing my credit card because it was stolen and used fraudulently, driving sales day in and day out only to be pushed back in the negative sales plan by a blizzard preventing business, state budget protests, financial concerns, and zero time to write creatively or even read more than a few pages before falling asleep with the little LED booklight poking me in the eye.
But, Jess, you say, we come to you to provide us with the ever-positive, try again and try harder, funny outlook from a new writer! All together now…”We shall overcome, we shall overcome…”
Right, right, we’ll kumbaya later. So what is it that’s getting me through the end of the day this time? A bologna sandwich and chardonnay.
Time to make a manageable list, and I emphasize manageable. Flashback to the store today, I think I spoke into the radio system something like: “Jess to Leadership Team, I’m stepping off the floor for a few minutes. I just need to
cry in a stockroom update the scoreboards.”
Pity party check in: Me. Check! Junk food. Check! (I admit half a can of Pringles was downed before I made the sandwich.) Looming deadline for two writing contests I’ve sworn to enter. CHECK! To Do List? *rifles through some wine glass coaster papers, smooths out wrinkled edges*
- Quit whining.
- Take a sip.
- Take time to journal 5 things to be grateful for today.
- Get the bottle out of the fridge, swig! No one’s watchin’.
- Finish reading Pope Joan, 60 pages to go, and one upcoming book review from yours truly.
- Designate time in your week’s schedule for writing devoted time to work on entry submissions.
- Freewrite a new section of your story-in-progress. Deadline: Saturday.
- Send out love, support, and kudos to your fellow writers!
How do you deal with meltdowns? What sparks the creative juices in you when your life’s got you down? What are your current happiness projects this week?
P.S. Did I ever mention every Tuesday night is band practice at my house? I find it strangely ironic that they’re learning Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” while I write about my crumbling grip on sanity. You know what they say, you can’t make up real life. Happy writing!