Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Summer Memories

It's funny the way random daily occurrences bring up memories of things past.  Being that I'm on vacation, I've taken to watching some quirky little movies, and some docs on line.  I was just watching a doc on the digital world we live in.  They were just showing some old scenes from various interview shows which took place in the early 1990s, and I was shuttled back momentarily in time, and for some reason I just had to write about it.

Early 90s summer vacation: Laura and her brother Mark, Kim and Lindsay.  Hanging out on the street, in the mall, in the yard.  I remember painting furniture out back (acrylic over oil - impossible) and it began raining.  That furniture was forever tainted with raindrop stains.  Listening to Soundgarden, Moist, Prodigy, Pearl Jam... watching the Kids in the Hall.  Constantly shooting our own spin-off, the Kids in the Closet.

I remember the sound of the ceiling fan in my living room, that constant hum which was always prevalent in our short films, or while watching the Regis and Kathy Lee show (this was before Kelly Ripa - the true old days!)  I got into this weird habit one summer of recording everything I did through my days, beyond my detailed journals, to point form lists (including bathroom breaks) I was a strange kid.

I remember watching an episode of a talk show, Sally or Oprah or Camilla or Leeza...I can't remember which one, they were all the same.  Anyways, this episode was about girls who thought they were ugly and unlikeable, but clearly, were not - they only suffered from their own personal disorders.  I went to the hatched mirror in the front hall and looked at my reflection, and told the girl in the program that she was beautiful, it was I who was the ugly one.  And then I told myself I was beautiful, but I'm not sure I believed myself.

I remember playing the piano, constantly, by ear.  Craig and I had Dad's membership card to Allan Video, so we'd walk down there all the time to rent VHS movies.  Curly Sue, My Girl, Three Men and a Baby... I would watch the movie, then promptly learn the theme song on the piano for the rest of the day.  I had quite the movie soundtrack repertoire under my 11 year old belt!

I remember letting off fireworks with all the families on our street after the dress rehearsal for my local theatre group's annual play.  I have a picture of my brother and I, kneeling over the burning schoolhouse, me wearing pounds of blue eyeshadow and red lipstick...which was of course, only left on my face from the theatre.

I remember being in the audience for the new Jonovision talkshow.  I wore my leather jacket and straightened my hair.  The topic was "my friend thinks she looks like a celebrity"  The only one I can remember was a Drew Barrymore look-a-like.  Of course, no one thought she looked like Drew Barrymore.  Personally, I don't really remember, I was too concerned with how I thought I'd look on camera.

I remember furiously writing poetry and short stories, getting lost in the web of my complicated imagination.  I would bring my writing books on every family vacation, weeks of rental cars across the country, my mind spanning every mile.  Every attraction my parents brought my brother and I to, I would imagine I was a character entering a new (or ancient) world.  I would remember every detail and use it in a story later on.

I remember spending hours at Laura's place.  Laura, Kim and I pouring over magazines, cutting out pictures of Billie Joe Armstrong and Eddie Vedder and taping them to Laura's closet door.  She had quite the shrine to rockstars there.  And that one day when the sky turned yellow, we were sure we were about to die in a sudden tornado, we wrote death notes, for anyone who may have stumbled onto Bach Blvd. after the hurricane and would find the notes we wrote in our last moments.  Young teens forever immortalized on post-its.

I could go on for hours about all of these memories, from camping to the cottage but I'd take up this entire blog I think.  Anyway, cheers to summer vacation.  Yeah, it isn't two months anymore, but a couple of weeks will do, and I won't lose sight of those days past.

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