Tuesday, June 2, 2009
I miss you music.
I love music but for some reason, as of late, I have been listening to less and less of it. Not like I don't have the time or the desire for it. For some reason it just never crosses my mind to turn anything on. (Alzheimer's????) So last weekend I did some good old fashioned pirating and found some new songs, some old songs and some weird songs. Anyone who knows me knows that I love Trip-Hop, Downtempo and Ambient music. However, I also love Synth-Pop, 80's, Bossa-Nova, Acid Jazz, old Jazz, Drum and Bass etc... This weekend I found myself searching for 80's super-sucky-yet-awesome music. I now have quite the lovely collection of horrible, smile inducing cheesy goodness! Molly ain't got shit on me! I quickly made a CD full of A-Ha, Blondie, The Cure, Pat Benatar, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Tears For Fears, Depeche Mode, Soft Cell, Human League and Kim Carnes. I busted out the hairspray, bold lipstick, my one long guitar shaped earring and my cute yet funky wrist warmers. I put the CD in, made sure that Pretty In Pink was in the DVD player for background ambiance and I was good to go. HA, no, but seriously. Those songs bring back so many memories of awkwardness.
I was never, how shall we say, happy or comfortable during my school years. I had a huge baby face covered by even bigger plastic framed glasses. I drove my moms old beat up station wagon. Her name was Bessie. The size of my hair was OUT OF CONTROL and so was the size of my ass. Not a good combination. I was known but by no means popular. My life could have been one of those pathetic after school specials. I was never hip, or cool, or trend setting. I never went to any dances or performed in any plays, and no, I was never kissed either. I never dated any boys but I had plenty of crushes. My biggest being Josh Yolk (I think that's how you spell it.). Man, he had pretty eyes. :) I didn't come into my own until my early 20's I must admit. See, this is why I love music. It takes you back and makes you reminisce about pimples, shoulder pads, passing notes and delusions of how a perm (which would soon prove to be a BAD decision) is going to change your life and make you sexy. Sad, but somehow therapeutic.
By the way, you know you're getting old when you can admit that at some point in your life you thought "Ducky" was cute. If you don't know what I mean then you're still young, and you suck. That is all!