Forget about it.

I just finished reading Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac by Gabrielle Zevin. It's one of those teen books that actually makes you want to go back to highschool, or at least, that's how it made me feel. Maybe that's because it has all my favourite teen plot devices:

Physical trauma!
Adorable boy best friend who loves a girl who has no idea!
Quitting yearbook!
Dumping your friends for better ones!
Descriptions of semi-esoteric playlists for subtext-ridden mix CDs!
Kissing!

Meaningful mix CDs aside (I had those in spades, or rather, on tapes), I longed for all the things on that list when I was a teenager. Okay, okay, I didn't completely hate all my friends, but don't all teens (or all people, for that matter) sometimes wish they could just screw the life they've landed in and run off to a different crowd? I think that's the plot point that works best in this book--when Naomi wakes up after her fall with no memory of her teenage years, one of the first things she realizes upon returning to school is that her old friends suck. And since she has no idea who she was before, she has nothing holding her back from starting over completely. Coupled with that is the absolutely terrifying realization that while she doesn't remember anyone, everyone remembers her--she doesn't know who she is, but she's surrounded by people who think they do. Naomi's amnesiac life is existential, and it's creepy, and it's a pretty awesome representation of the kind of daily paranoid angst that plagues teens. At least, it plagued me. And still does. Ah, fake adult life.

I also always wished feverishly for a boy friend who would become a boyfriend, but I guess every girl does that. Pretty In Pink didn't help much (I always sympathized with Duckie more than Blaine).

In honour of its mention in the book, and also its significance to me, now especially and forever for sure, I give you I'm so tired.