PAST NOTES

I’ve really been getting into the Past Notes spirit (read: vandalism) since a friend of PN recently helped me acquire these awesome stickers for guerrilla marketing purposes. I tagged the back of a moving bus with one the other day. I felt 14 again. Up next on the agenda: stealing EMPLOYEES MUST WASH HANDS signs from restrooms and hanging them in my locker.

Cece, in her “trying to be different” dress. The one article of clothing she ever attempted to achieve different-ness in… She got it at raver store as like, a joke. Me and Cadence were all, what the hell - we dress weird, you dress preppy - NOT fair you have that awesome crazy shiny pink dress with glimmering stars and we don’t. She would only ever wear it on days that she wanted attention - sporadically, and just for a few months. Cadence and I would roll our eyes to each other. And the fact that she broke it out as a Halloween costume only pissed us off more - like, oh so being ‘different’ is a dress-up thing? Not an every day thing? Really? Because it is for us. We took ourselves and our passion to dress like complete assholes in creative ways very seriously back then.

Halloween 1995

Yours truly, hanging out at the town park
Circa Fall 1995 

If this blog wasn’t anonymous, and I didn’t have to blur out my face, you would be able to see that even though I was skate-punk-thugged-out, I still wore bright fire engine red lipstick. Viva the 90s.

As stated here, all the names here have been changed, including mine. I can’t have anyone’s google results presenting them with this horror show. Anyhow. The name Jim was chosen for my ninth grade boyfriend because that was the name of the sneaker I wore then. This shoe box was used as storage for my old letters and cards - not folded up notes, but correspondence that was actually put through the mail. The passed notes from school were stored in a plastic piece of Tupperware, one intended for cereal, oddly. I found the container in my mother’s barn about 8 years ago, every note perfectly preserved, despite being inside of a drafty, damp and modly, cold barn through that many Upstate New York winters.

For reference, this is a good example of what my friends from the city looked like in ‘94-‘95, whilst I was up in the boonies with the second coming of Heavy Metal Parking Lot.

Past Notes has a lot of scanning to get to.

Smoking in the girls room, 1995

Dear Everyone,

I am sorry for the lack of steady posts lately… I have been going through some things in my adult life which have made it hard for me to step back and write about my past life. So thank you for reading thus far and sticking around, but I promise to be returning very soon with fresh updates!

- Past Notes

Check out this awesome picture of the girl who taught me: how to smoke cigarettes, how to hit a bong, what Pink Floyd was, the importance of a leather jacket, the existance of stretch jeans. Not to mention older boys, make-up and SUNGLASSES. I didn’t emulate her fashion/hair sense though, that just needs to be said.

I’m not trying to stereotype based on appearance or whatever but you meet a chick like this after spending 10 years in an uptown Manhattan private school, and you are just going to be so fucking blown away she’s not kicking your ass and taking your lunch money that you’ll do anything she says. Plus she’s your neighbor. And where I lived, neighbor means a quarter mile down the road, so you take what you can get.

Circa 1994, on an eighth grade field trip to Washington D.C. Yes, the person pictured above is in eighth grade and not 35 years old.

a heart in the sky on the road that led to school

Cailean & Jean smoking dope after school, with Jackie coming up from the back to join the group.