1965

Why is it that I can remember every lyric to a song I last heard 30 years ago, yet I can't remember the plot to a movie I saw last night?

When I was a child back in the seventies I had this portable record player. It was so cool (back then) - a little hard plastic suitcase with a pebbly texture, white plastic handle and a silver metal closure... When you opened it up you would unfurl the white cord (stuck in a narrow compartment in the back) and plug it right in. It would play 45s. The plastic arm would be manually placed on the outside edge of the record and make its way to the center as it played. And when the song was over the needle would make that scratchy bumping sound until it reached the "end", then automatically lift up and move back to its resting place.

"I feel the Earth move under my feet I feel the sky tu-umblin" down....I feel my heart start to tremblin" whenever you're aroouuuuund...oooh baby, when I see your face, never in the month of May, ohhhhh darlin' I can't stand it - when you look at me thata way-ayyy..."

I saw "St. Vincent" last night with Bill Murray. Loved it. I cried so much at the end it was embarrassing. I won't give it away, but it was worth seeing and the fact I can remember today (not even 24 hours later) is my testament to how good it was.

I can remember what I wore on a date when I was 17 but I can't remember the story line to a book I read last month. I know I liked it or not but I couldn't tell you what it was about.

"Jo-Jo was a man who thought he was a loner, but he knew it wouldn't last... Jo-Jo left his home in Tucson Arizona, for some California grass..."

I remember the green apple on the record, that yellow plastic 45 carrying case that stacked the records up on a central ring that also became the handle.

I had a pair of light pink denim bell bottoms - low-waist with three buttons - that I loved. They were hand-me-downs from my cousin (not sure which - Vita or Antoinette) who lived two doors down. Anything they wore was cool to me - they were my teenager cousins and I was happy to get their clothes. I had no idea I was underprivileged, it just seemed normal to me.

I think growing up and not having money made me creative. When I moved to a new town when I was 13 I understood where I stood on the social scale. It wasn't that I was the poorest - not at all, but I recognized the disparity.

I loved style and fashion and always had a subscription to Vogue. If you had the money you could go to the department stores and stock up on the latest fashions - its done for you - this was not the case with me, so I created my own.

I remember taking old skirts, taking them apart and remaking them into a new trendier version. It was very "pretty in pink" - I think I turned heads - maybe not all in a good way - but I certainly got noticed from time to time with my unusual outfits.

I went through a period of horrific taste in college. Maybe it was just what was available at the time, but when I think back I cringe. The 80s were not good for fashion. The hair was worse. Yes, I went through a moment when I used the hair gel to excess - but soon I shaved it off - my very own rebellion against big hair.

I did keep a few long strands in the front the hang over my eyes, so as not to be completely exposed - but my entire head was right down to the peach fuzz. It was a bold statement that I couldn't imagine right now - having had a mess of long hair for most of the last 15 years.

sort of the hairstyle i had in the mid 80s

It freaks me out to pull my hair back in a pony tail and it makes me think about the women in the Middle East who don't want to remove their hijab. They are so used to the privacy, the security of their being hidden - that has less to do with women's rights or freedom - and more to do with (perhaps) unwanted exposure. What do I know?

Sometimes I think I'm just going to go and shave my head again. Take it all off - make a statement to rebel against what exactly? My faded youth (this time) - my vanity?

Unless you're Audrey Hepburn, no matter what you do - aging sucks and there is nothing you can do about it, you can look freaky with too much botox and some face lifts OR you can just look old.

I loved Bill Murray's character and how it was so despicable on the outside - you're left with wondering how someone could possibly be that way - and compare him with despicable people you meet in your life see on TV... or read about in the newspapers. In the end, he's not what he seems to be, or better - he's not all what he is on the surface.

I've known people like this - sort of. People who will say the meanest things - and on the other hand would give you incredible love. I'm a forgiver for sure. I guess I always hope that I am always forgiven as well.