Myspace is fantastic for a limited number of things.
One of them is finding old girlfriends. This is way better than waiting for a reunion, because most of my girlfriends weren’t in the same class as I was, and also because I can think of nothing that would make me want to pour salt in my eyes more than going to a class reunion.
There have been a lot of benefits to finding these women and talking to them, notably that I can try to apologize for the things I did when I was too retarded to understand I was being retarded, and also because I get to stalk them on the computer for a while, finding out what they do now, who they date now, if they have kids, look at the pictures they’ve immortalized online, etc. It’s kind of like the electronic equivalent of digging around in their trash for discarded hairbrushes or old t-shirts, but this is much more socially acceptable. Jackie, who was the very first girlfriend, was digging around in some old boxes and found these two pictures from when we were in junior high school.
Yes, I’m not sure why I’m squinting at the camera, but I do remember my ultra thin gold chain and the St. Christopher’s medallion that hung from it (this may have also been during the time when I was wearing a cross, I can’t really make it out). You see that shit eating grin on the left? That was me having a fraction of a shadow of recognition how lucky I was to be dancing with the hot number in the green dress.
Interestingly enough, I don’t remember looking like this.
I remember wanting to look like this. I remember trying to look like this, but I don’t remember looking like this at all. I have this image of myself, at almost any age, of being this overweight, greasy, pasty kid with shifty eyes and a big nose. Also in my mind I’m shorter. But in these pictures, I look downright normal. Very odd.
Also, the picture of the music room there on the right, brought this full scale memory into my head of the room, with solo practice rooms that locked from the inside. If you went to the opposite wall and opened the doors, it would open out onto the track and the bleachers for the football field, and the hot sun and dust from the gym class running laps would flood in.