It seems I’ve been tagged for this meme by two people: ASMO and Ximena. Since I’m usually the one being scratched off the invite list rather than added to it, I felt compelled to show up and maybe even bring some dip. So, here’s what was going on in my life in the years ending in 2 and 7, in increments of 5 years.
1977: I’m 4 years old, living in New Hampshire. My sister has just been born and I can only imagine that I’m super-pissed about it. I enjoy swinging, sliding, and eating the cherry tomatoes from my mother’s garden, seeds and all (gross!). Oh, and I love to read. My favorite restaurant is The Library in Portsmouth, NH. All I remember is the chocolate mousse.
1982: I’m 9. My family has recently moved from a suburb of D.C. to Massachusetts. Why do we have to keep moving all the time, I’m wondering? Are we in the Witness Relocation Program? Are my parents cooler than they’re letting on? I enjoy hoarding my milk money to buy ice cream on the sly. My favorite restaurant is the Barnside Tavern in Hanover, MA where they bring me sour cream for my baked potato minus the attitude when I ask for it.
1987: I’m 14. We’ve moved to a neighboring town in Massachusetts, but it still requires changing schools. Maybe I’ll be popular this time? Nope. To protect my delicate self-esteem, I build a towering fortress of hair and Aqua Net atop my head. It offers little protection and, instead, seems to attract bees. I discover my chocolate addiction by selling chocolate bars to myself during various school-related fundraisers. I get a job at Souper Salad on weekends to support my chocolate habit, but inadvertently get addicted to pastrami sandwiches, too.
1992: I’m 19. I’m at Tufts University trying to figure out how not to flunk out of my science classes. Why is science so hard? The food on campus sucks. I’ve got to get out of this place. I hear the food in Spain is good, but how can I get the first flight out while still having my dad foot the bill? Oh yeah, I’ll “study abroad.” Donde estan las restaurantes, por favor? Y quien es el hombre muy guapo por alli?
1997: You’re going to have to do your own math from now on. I’m working at an engineering firm in Boston where I attempt to make engineering sound fun on paper. It’s not, and I discover that I’m a very bad liar (this is not true – I’m a good liar, but only when my heart is in it). I barely make enough to go out to eat once in a while. I’m very, very hungry. And very, very bored. Guess I’d better learn how to cook. And write.
2002: I'm cooking and writing. Plus, I’m now married to an engineer. I guess they’re not all boring, after all. I spend most of my waking hours at Boston Magazine trying to weasel my way into as many comped meals as possible. I’m vomiting more than usual, though. Turns out I’m pregnant. The Patriots win the Super Bowl on the same day that our offer is accepted on a house. Later, our first son is born.
2007: Well, if you’ve been reading my blog, then you have an inkling about the rest.