I got my first Green Day CD when I was in 6th or 7th grade and I remember feeling transformed — not by the music (it was Nimrod for crying out loud), but by how I, Green Day CD Owner, would now appear to the outside world. This was about the same time that I began buying zip-off cargo pants and Cheshire Cat t-shirts from Hot Topic and, for some reason, wearing a visor backwards and upside-down. My friends, fellow Green Day fans, were spiking their hair with Elmers glue and donning mall-bought Anarchy t-shirts. Despite the fact that we were as mainstream as you could possibly get, we felt pretty punk rock. Sure, I can tell you now that this was silly — dumb even — but it was also kind of sweet in the way that a bunch of goofball kids trying to figure out their identities can be. We were all trying on social masks to see if one fit, all while being somehow both fake and sincere at the same time (a line only tweens can manage to walk).
God, I swear she described me in 8th/9th grade with the first paragraph.