clevermanka (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clevermanka) wrote2015-09-27 08:16 am
clevermanka) wrote2015-09-27 08:16 am
Entry tags:
Age meme
How this works: You comment, I give you an age (please tell me how old you currently are - I don't know all of your ages unfortunately) and you fill out the meme questions with what applied to you back then, and now. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tatjna gave me age 30.
At 30...
I lived in:
Lawrence, in my much-missed apartment on Tennessee Street. That was my last year in that apartment before Dean and I bought the house on Lawrence Ave. When I say "much-missed," I mean that I still look at that house every damn time I drive by it to this day which is probably at least three or four times a month since it's on a fairly commonly road in this burg. I lived there for seven years, three of those pretty much by myself. It was enormous. Two big bedrooms, two big living areas, a small but usable kitchen (with my first gas stove), one and a half bathrooms, and a nightmarish basement which was used for band practice for two different local bands. I got along great with my upstairs neighbors (although I hung out more with the two guys who lived upstairs, Smirl and Ritchie, than I did with Tracey, the gal who moved in when Smirl moved to Chicago and Ritchie disappeared off the planet as far as I could tell). It wasn't air-conditioned (I had three window units), and the main bathroom was a converted porch with no insulation or heat but I didn't care. It cheap, my landlord was the best, and it waswalking stumbling distance from the downtown bars. It was perfect.
I drove:
My occasionally-missed Honda CRX. It was the car on which I learned to drive stick. I got it from a friend who traded it to me for $200 and some stereo speakers. It had a cheap, flaking, and faded purple paint job, the rear hatch had to be propped up with a tomato plant stake, and when you lifted the floor mats on the passenger side, you could see the road passing by underneath. It got good gas mileage, though, and was surprisingly reliable in bad weather. I eventually sold it for $200 and a dead deer to someone who is still driving it.
I was in a relationship with:
Dean. The less said about that, the better. It was still good at that point, so yay?
I feared:
Spiders.
I worked at:
Color Art, ugh. This is the place where the shitty-ass operations manager hated me for no reasonable reason I ever determined and because he didn't want to give me a raise at my first-year evaluation he said this about me: "Clever Manka unfortunately relies on the most efficient way of solving a problem instead of researching other solutions first." Not. Even. Kidding. After 18 months, I'd had enough of his crap and turned in my resignation (without even having something else lined up). The president of the company begged me to stay and promised he'd have me moved to a different supervisor. Two weeks later they laid me off because of failing financials. That's how absolutely terrible the ops manager was. They had to pay me a severance package and unemployment because the damn president of the company was so unaware of the state of the business that he didn't just let me walk. I still laugh about that. Eighteen months of hell, but what a punch line.
I wanted to be:
At a rockabilly show, probably.
- - -
NOW! (45)
I live in:
Lawrence, still, but in a house on Indiana St. I don't have the same feelings of affection for this place, but it does have central heat and A/C throughout.
I drive:
A Chrysler Crossfire which is registered tomckitterick but is driven by me 90% of the time since he usually relies on his two-wheelers. Unlike my feelings about the this-vs-now living spaces, this vehicle wins over the CRX. It's sexy, fast, a joy to drive, and the hatchback door stays up on its own (although the hydraulics are getting a bit old and it's kind of slow to rise in the winter). Good job deciding to buy this car, mckitterick. WELL DONE.
I'm in a relationship with:
mckitterick. This dude, I tell you. He occasionally drives me up a wall, but he's an amazing partner. He works harder at being a good person than anyone I've ever known. Sometimes his faith in humanity is shaken, but he continues to believe that the world can be saved and that it deserves saving. He is generous, compassionate, and intelligent. I mean, he's really, really smart. I sometimes forget because (ILU honey) we don't share the same sort of smarts and his type of intelligence is simply not on my radar. Also he is kind of a goofball. But then he goes to elite workshops on quantum physics and engages with the scientists there on their own level and when he comes home to talk about it I'm all o_O. Also, let's face it, the guy is fucking fit.
I fear:
Spiders.
I work at:
My paycheck comes from the University of Kansas, specifically the English Department, where I herd graduate students and enforce policy like a gentle and benevolent dictator. I have good times and bad times here, but I'm mostly content. At the moment. I also work really hard at not succumbing to chronic illness (Hashimoto's disease and all its accompanying effects). That takes up most of my life outside of my job. I'd rather spend more time working on art projects or my '68 Chevelle, but that's how it goes. I don't let myself get bummed about it because what'd be the point?
I want to be:
Healthy and wealthy so I'd have more time to do the things I want to do in addition to the things I need to do.
tatjna gave me age 30.At 30...
I lived in:
Lawrence, in my much-missed apartment on Tennessee Street. That was my last year in that apartment before Dean and I bought the house on Lawrence Ave. When I say "much-missed," I mean that I still look at that house every damn time I drive by it to this day which is probably at least three or four times a month since it's on a fairly commonly road in this burg. I lived there for seven years, three of those pretty much by myself. It was enormous. Two big bedrooms, two big living areas, a small but usable kitchen (with my first gas stove), one and a half bathrooms, and a nightmarish basement which was used for band practice for two different local bands. I got along great with my upstairs neighbors (although I hung out more with the two guys who lived upstairs, Smirl and Ritchie, than I did with Tracey, the gal who moved in when Smirl moved to Chicago and Ritchie disappeared off the planet as far as I could tell). It wasn't air-conditioned (I had three window units), and the main bathroom was a converted porch with no insulation or heat but I didn't care. It cheap, my landlord was the best, and it was
I drove:
My occasionally-missed Honda CRX. It was the car on which I learned to drive stick. I got it from a friend who traded it to me for $200 and some stereo speakers. It had a cheap, flaking, and faded purple paint job, the rear hatch had to be propped up with a tomato plant stake, and when you lifted the floor mats on the passenger side, you could see the road passing by underneath. It got good gas mileage, though, and was surprisingly reliable in bad weather. I eventually sold it for $200 and a dead deer to someone who is still driving it.
I was in a relationship with:
Dean. The less said about that, the better. It was still good at that point, so yay?
I feared:
Spiders.
I worked at:
Color Art, ugh. This is the place where the shitty-ass operations manager hated me for no reasonable reason I ever determined and because he didn't want to give me a raise at my first-year evaluation he said this about me: "Clever Manka unfortunately relies on the most efficient way of solving a problem instead of researching other solutions first." Not. Even. Kidding. After 18 months, I'd had enough of his crap and turned in my resignation (without even having something else lined up). The president of the company begged me to stay and promised he'd have me moved to a different supervisor. Two weeks later they laid me off because of failing financials. That's how absolutely terrible the ops manager was. They had to pay me a severance package and unemployment because the damn president of the company was so unaware of the state of the business that he didn't just let me walk. I still laugh about that. Eighteen months of hell, but what a punch line.
I wanted to be:
At a rockabilly show, probably.
- - -
NOW! (45)
I live in:
Lawrence, still, but in a house on Indiana St. I don't have the same feelings of affection for this place, but it does have central heat and A/C throughout.
I drive:
A Chrysler Crossfire which is registered to
mckitterick but is driven by me 90% of the time since he usually relies on his two-wheelers. Unlike my feelings about the this-vs-now living spaces, this vehicle wins over the CRX. It's sexy, fast, a joy to drive, and the hatchback door stays up on its own (although the hydraulics are getting a bit old and it's kind of slow to rise in the winter). Good job deciding to buy this car, mckitterick. WELL DONE. I'm in a relationship with:
mckitterick. This dude, I tell you. He occasionally drives me up a wall, but he's an amazing partner. He works harder at being a good person than anyone I've ever known. Sometimes his faith in humanity is shaken, but he continues to believe that the world can be saved and that it deserves saving. He is generous, compassionate, and intelligent. I mean, he's really, really smart. I sometimes forget because (ILU honey) we don't share the same sort of smarts and his type of intelligence is simply not on my radar. Also he is kind of a goofball. But then he goes to elite workshops on quantum physics and engages with the scientists there on their own level and when he comes home to talk about it I'm all o_O. Also, let's face it, the guy is fucking fit. I fear:
Spiders.
I work at:
My paycheck comes from the University of Kansas, specifically the English Department, where I herd graduate students and enforce policy like a gentle and benevolent dictator. I have good times and bad times here, but I'm mostly content. At the moment. I also work really hard at not succumbing to chronic illness (Hashimoto's disease and all its accompanying effects). That takes up most of my life outside of my job. I'd rather spend more time working on art projects or my '68 Chevelle, but that's how it goes. I don't let myself get bummed about it because what'd be the point?
I want to be:
Healthy and wealthy so I'd have more time to do the things I want to do in addition to the things I need to do.
no subject
no subject
no subject
I would like to do the meme! I'll be 26 in 23 days.
no subject
no subject
this seriously boggles the mind.
also, yay rockabilly!
no subject
no subject
Doesn't it though? I can't believe dude wasn't fired.
no subject
no subject
I am now 46.
no subject
Not sure of the mechanics, but it's early in the day...
Re: Not sure of the mechanics, but it's early in the day...
Love
Re: Love
no subject
no subject
Are we still doing these? Yay!
Re: Are we still doing these? Yay!
no subject
I can't believe someone is still driving that car.
no subject
I KNOW! They might not have the sexiest design, but god damn, those 90s Hondas run like champs.
no subject
I pretend you never had that job. I remember it being so awful for you.
I'm 55.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
We have a curriculum this year that includes an alphabet chart and they chose RATS for the letter R. I declared that there was no way I would use it and my boss paused for a moment, and then just sort of sighed and said "You're serious, aren't you?" Yup. That's not happening.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
By the end of my first summer as a carrier I could walk face-first into a web big enough to cross the sidewalk, and just be really fucking annoyed because how I had sticky shit in my eyelashes and on my face.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Hmmmm, how about 30?