pandoras of the world,
allow me to reintroduce myself..
my name is roxanne.
my laptop and i were out of commission for some time, but we're both back and ready for action. i'd like to report that while i was mac-less, i experienced new freedom, released from the burdens of my technological fetters, but there was no such occurrence. i'm not ashamed to say that i'm totally dependent on my mac, and i'm inordinately glad to have it back in my life. thing is.. a good chunk of my files are gone without a trace. which means my photos, my schedule, and a good chunk of my music - the better half, unfortunately - is missing, among other things. it sucks, to be honest. but there's no direction to go if not forward, and that i will. except for those times, of course, when i'm going back.. without further ado, the post.
for a girl who refuses to wear a watch, i do think about the times a lot. i spent sunday morning brunch reminiscing with roommates about the tv shows of our youth. though we didn't watch them together - our paths only crossed a couple of years ago - it quickly became apparent that our shared experiences are numerous. sarah mentioned in passing that the older you get, the more nostalgic conversation you'll tend to engage in. i wonder if this is even possible for me. the only time i'm not longing for my past is when i'm longing for someone else's. i yearn for mine because i want it back, but i pine for others' because i never had it in the first place.. the garish day-glo fun of the eighties, the loose, haphazard cool of the late sixties. i want full skirts with wasp waists and beaded knee length shifts, but until i discover a way to take a tour of the past, i'll continue dreaming.
i stumbled upon a year-old post (hence the anya hindmarch reference) from an old blog that expresses similar sentiments, perhaps in a slightly more bitter tone. i created a sort of mood board around the writing that captures my perpetual nostalgia for unlived pasts.