Remember the days when you'd go out all weekend, gettin' hardly any sleep or any halfway 'healthy' drink or food, for that matter, and then you'd turn up in school on Mondays totally "rise and shine" to gossip about the latest excess?
Yeah, me neither...
I don't know about you, but my puberty sucked. I recently found my teenager-diary again, and, embarrassing as such a thing always is, it also struck me how unhappy I must have been. I mean, of course it's all about what now seem to me "baby"-problems, and of course every teenager sort of engulfs a certain mal de vivre (something to do with hormones, maybe).
I was overly irritable, overly self-conscious (well, I still am, though I like to think in a different, more grown-up way), angry at everyone for no particular reason, and I always felt that others had way more liberties than I had and were way better dressed than I was (in short: I was a pain in the ass). Plus: I grew up in the countryside; the latest bus would leave town at 9.30 pm (and that was the one I had to take since my mom was super strict), and of course the whole point was hangin' around in town as much and as long as possible. We would either spend all afternoon in cafés and then try to be home in a halfway decent state, or I would invent some ridiculous lie so I could sleep over at a friend's place who had a 'later' curfew (later meaning something like 11pm). It sucked to be a teenager, it sucked to be a teenager in Salzburg, it sucked to be my mother's teenage daughter, it sucked to be me.
But please, let's by all means glorify youth. What else is there to do.
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