Did you ever find yourself gawking at pictures of people you don't know? I'm not sure what my fascination is with Facebook but when people post pictures, I always seem to find myself in a blank haze, staring at these unknown faces with more or less, curiosity. Who are they? What are their stories? They could be characters in one of my scripts or simply a quick distraction from my less than thought provoking job. You make the call. I think Facebook is a bit of an odd creation, proving again that society is more concerned with your looks rather than what lies beneath. It's described as a "social utility" hooking fellow web surfers up with one another. Hmmm...that seems like one to grow on.
I moved away from Albany in the mid-1980's, returning only briefly after graduating with a bogus English degree and finding that the world was NOT waiting for another 20 something with a useless Humanities degree. I would have been better off with a Bachelor of Tarts degree rather than Arts...at least I would have gotten a job as a woman of the night right out of school. There is always a need for call girls but I honestly think I would have been too much of a complainer. I can hear myself now, "Not there but here...too much, too little....ho-hum, ho-hum...are you finished yet?" Plus, no self respecting young woman would stoop to such levels just to pay the bills. They may strip but my skinny period was brief and fleeting and my thighs never seemed to recover. Anyway, I think a Brazilian would hurt too much. I can barely stand plucking my eyebrows!
My point is, I left that town and return only to see my family. I have a few friends left from there and love them to death but I needed to move on and forward, leaving all those memories dormant. I never even went to my high school reunion. I just couldn't go back there and back to that place. Don't get me wrong, I had tons of friends and did all cool 80's things, including cut school, smoke dope, tease my huge hair, use AquaNet hairspray, listen to The Pet Shop Boys and wear a lot of glow-in-the-dark clothes. At that time, I was smoking Salem Slim Lights, the menthol variety and worshipping Madonna. My friend Rena and I were obsessed with the radio show, "Rock Over London" and anything with Molly Ringwald in it. I couldn't get another rhinestone or gummy bracelet on my wrist, wishing that I had an extra extremity for all the flea market finds I purchased at DayBreak, a vintage clothing store on Central Avenue.. I was high stylin' back then, dancing to "Silly Sets" at the Downtown Athletic Club (DTAC) at the base of Maiden Lane in lower Albany. By the time I would crawl in there when I was 18, I was a gin and tonic away from complete oblivion or another random kissing episode my friends would tease me about on Monday morning during study hall. It was always the cutest guy in the joint. I would set my sights on them and then hook-up, passionately kissing the guy till my jaw would allow no more. I suppose it was a sloppy mess but at the time, I was enjoying myself immensely. Kissing with no commitment....spent some of my best days in Cape May like that but I'll save that for another blog episode.
There are many more confessions to go but I figured I'd start with the more innocent of the lot.
I moved away from Albany in the mid-1980's, returning only briefly after graduating with a bogus English degree and finding that the world was NOT waiting for another 20 something with a useless Humanities degree. I would have been better off with a Bachelor of Tarts degree rather than Arts...at least I would have gotten a job as a woman of the night right out of school. There is always a need for call girls but I honestly think I would have been too much of a complainer. I can hear myself now, "Not there but here...too much, too little....ho-hum, ho-hum...are you finished yet?" Plus, no self respecting young woman would stoop to such levels just to pay the bills. They may strip but my skinny period was brief and fleeting and my thighs never seemed to recover. Anyway, I think a Brazilian would hurt too much. I can barely stand plucking my eyebrows!
My point is, I left that town and return only to see my family. I have a few friends left from there and love them to death but I needed to move on and forward, leaving all those memories dormant. I never even went to my high school reunion. I just couldn't go back there and back to that place. Don't get me wrong, I had tons of friends and did all cool 80's things, including cut school, smoke dope, tease my huge hair, use AquaNet hairspray, listen to The Pet Shop Boys and wear a lot of glow-in-the-dark clothes. At that time, I was smoking Salem Slim Lights, the menthol variety and worshipping Madonna. My friend Rena and I were obsessed with the radio show, "Rock Over London" and anything with Molly Ringwald in it. I couldn't get another rhinestone or gummy bracelet on my wrist, wishing that I had an extra extremity for all the flea market finds I purchased at DayBreak, a vintage clothing store on Central Avenue.. I was high stylin' back then, dancing to "Silly Sets" at the Downtown Athletic Club (DTAC) at the base of Maiden Lane in lower Albany. By the time I would crawl in there when I was 18, I was a gin and tonic away from complete oblivion or another random kissing episode my friends would tease me about on Monday morning during study hall. It was always the cutest guy in the joint. I would set my sights on them and then hook-up, passionately kissing the guy till my jaw would allow no more. I suppose it was a sloppy mess but at the time, I was enjoying myself immensely. Kissing with no commitment....spent some of my best days in Cape May like that but I'll save that for another blog episode.
There are many more confessions to go but I figured I'd start with the more innocent of the lot.
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