I feel blessed to have been born in my particular place in the time/space continuum. I have an unhealthy love for electricity, indoor plumbing and the internet. And as a woman, there are few times in history that I wouldn’t have been treated as chattel or worse – even as states are overturning equal pay legislation and ignorant bigots are proposing trans-vaginal probes, at least I have access to birth control and freedom of speech (they haven’t come for me yet, maybe when I’m famous).
The best part about being a child of the 80s is that I’m not totally B.C. (Before Computers – a.k.a. how do I reach my AOL account through Safari), but I’m not part of the Facebook Generation either. Instant Messenger and other precursors of modern-day hyper-connectivity were available, but not as ubiquitously, and anyway I didn’t have anyone to chat with (I would console myself with the trope that if you’re cool in high school the rest of your life will probably be an epically painful plateau/descent scenario).
