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While trying on shoes to wear for my tenth birthday, I was struck by the thought that I might not make it to 13. Getting old was difficult. Finding shoes that fit, impossible.

Two years earlier, I was standing in the pool, looking up at the gum tree leaves lit by the setting sun, trying to figure out how old I'd be in 2010. Not that I ever thought I'd see 2010. I was eight, all those years didn't compute. That and I was a seriously dark-minded kid.

I can't blame the music I listened to, I listened to disco and Britpop. Not even the dark wave stuff at that point. Men At Work and Hall & Oates, too. The distance between music released in 1949 and music that came out the year I was born is now equal. I cannot comprehend what music--much less life--will be like in the year 2049. I will venture a guess that I'll be bitching about the last '80s station being sold, if things are still being bought and sold. If there are still public airwaves. If music is still allowed to be played without paying a fee to the minister of recorded things.

25 years ago I went bowling. Had to change out of the pink heels. Just as well, I turned my ankle in those shoes.

20 years ago mum and I made a cake with olive oil because we ran out of vegetable oil. it tasted pretty good.

15 years ago I was taking driving lessons. Still haven't died in a car crash, much to my surprise.

10 years ago I cut my hair and left enough hair to start a padawan braid on the right side. I cut it in 2003 but started growing it again. I split it into two braids in 2006. In December of 2007 I joined the two braids at the halfway point. It all means something to me, and someday if you're good I'll tell you all about it.

5 years ago...I can't remember. Oh yeah, I started a comic strip. Finally started thinking forward.

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