In truth, like many people my age, I hated high school and my 20s sucked as much as they rocked. So while we may take the baby barrettes out of our graying hair and no longer fit the description of grrrl, my generation has been pretty busy spending the last few decades living its life, starting its zines, cranking out some great music and generally not giving much of a crap about its hotness to begin with. I’ll gladly answer to “slacker,” but even if it’s with a wink and a self-deprecating laugh over pleather miniskirts gone by, don’t call me “formerly” anything. Because I’m not ready to assume my best years are behind me. And I don’t ever want to define myself by what I’ve been.