Me, Karen, Mike, Dori, Kristine, Jody, Troy, Tina, and Richie. 1990
I swear, I pretty much exclusively wore Sting t-shirts for the majority of my teen years. I am glad a picture finally surfaced on the interwebs of me wearing one (and a red, yellow, and green wooden bead choker).
I wonder who kissed who….because there must’ve been a reason for me to look so pissed. And that was almost always the reason.
I was totally freaked out by the idea of physical contact (unless it was for trust falls or something) but I would still get so angry and jealous when my friends would have someone to get all smoochy with.
I didn’t kiss anyone until the year after this pic was taken. When I was 18, in college. And even then it was just once and he was some big drug dealer in Harvard Square. He had no legs. He carried a meat cleaver under his wheelchair cushion. It was another year before the next time. I was 19. Other side of the country. Me and some dude were making out. He took off his shirt. He had the Rolling Stones lips and tongue tattooed on his chest. I freaked out, jumped out the window (first floor), and ran.
I was a late bloomer, to say the least.
Sure did love Sting though.
And I would totally rock Jody’s pants right now.
My posse was crazy and amazing.
I wish you could tell better in this pic that I had Milli Vanilli/Lisa Bonet hair past my butt.
I loved Milli Vanilli and Lisa Bonet.
And did I mention that I loved Sting?
I like LOVE LOVED Sting.
Like wrote poems about him loved him.
Teenagers are so weird.
Weird good.
Do your thing.
Kimya Dawson is so great.
