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Zig-a-zig-aaah

At this point I figured love songs weren’t actually about anything anyone was feeling. They were a conspiracy; scaffolding to shove musical notes into. Like all those Saddle Club books that I had to stop reading because I was embarrassed when I realised they all hit the same dramatic note at the same point in every book. Nothing in them actually meant anything real, it was all a cartoon background on repeat. When I figured this out I had to quickly get rid of them before anyone realised how dumb I’d been. My best friend bought all 30 of them for ten bucks. I wasn’t an idiot.

I had to be so careful. I was still waiting on my first crush on a guy. I'd been waiting some time. And when you are waiting for Godot like that you can’t let your guard slip.

I didn’t know what ‘Zig-a-zig-ahhh’ was, but I was certain it was still ok to like The Spice Girls. It was ok to stare at them and enjoy their music. Even if all their songs were about some boy, it was always really about not choosing the stupid boy. Because friends come first. I got that. It was a relief in a way, because it was a lot of effort to like things and have to spend ages making sure I gave equal attention to whatever guy was in it. Just to be careful. Like with Lois & Clark. You had to like Clark and the way he crossed his arms to make his muscles seem bigger than they were. You had to make sure you had the same amount of Superman posters on your wall as Teri Hatcher, especially if she was looking too pretty or if you could see the tops of her boobs. You didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. It was kind of exhausting, but those were the rules.

The Spice Girls meant five women in poster form. I had room on my wall. I bought a ton of TV Hits just for the pictures. The Spice Girls made it all ok. Even though I had to make sure I stopped liking them when everybody else did.

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