MOLGI’ve been caught in a time warp this week, listening to Machines of Loving Grace – Concentration in traffic.

Something about this album always brings up memories of killing time in my room, waiting for some fellow hoodlum to pick me up, putting on too much eyeliner, lacing up boots, wondering why my boyfriend was such a jackass, scrounging around in my schoolbag for change for coffee, etc.

It’s funny, I can’t even imagine anymore what that version of myself felt like, yet somehow very little has changed. Now I kill time in my living room, and I drive there myself because I’m too impatient and independent to wait on someone else. There’s less eyeliner involved, and more often it’s flip flops instead of boots (it’s 75 degrees year round here, after all). And I’m old and wise enough now to know why the boyfriend was a jackass, and that I definitely won’t have any money for coffee until next week.

But other than that…it’s pretty much the same.

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