To save some face, I would just add that two years later, when teenage angst hit and I outgrew my Backstreet Boys phase and started my silverchair obsession, and accordingly started to listen to real music, my dislike for the Spice Girls gained actual legitimacy. The point is, I was never a fan, not even at the lowest point of my music-listening life...so when I read about their performance at the closing ceremony, I surprised myself to hell when I felt some excitement at the news.
Nothing, however, could possibly compare to the shock that I felt when I felt that deep sense of awe as it became apparent that the mega girl group of my childhood was about to take the stage. I saw the word "SPICE" on the taxi and my jaw dropped, and a sense of disbelief washed over me, followed by an incredibly misplaced but all too real sense of reverence. For better or for worse, putting aside whatever the implications are, this girl group was my childhood and I was about to relive a tiny portion of it.
They came on, and started off well with "Wannabe"; but when they started screeching the chorus of "Spice Up Your Life", all the positive vibes I felt slowly faded away and I found myself wishing they would actually sing...oh wait.
To be fair, I did feel slightly sad at how short the performance was. It was a nice throwback to the years that have long, long passed, hence making me feel really old; but being reminded of my early years when I was really just a little girl unknowingly growing out of her childhood and blissfully unaware of the hard times that awaited her was a nice change for once, even if it didn't last very long.
And fortunately, when I saw the act that followed the Spice Girls, whatever awe or reverence I felt when they appeared was quickly supplanted by my near freak-out state of being when I heard the opening bars of...WONDERWALL. OMFG! The only thing that stopped it from being sheer Perfection was the fact that it wasn't performed by Oasis, but by Liam Gallagher's current band. (I bet he was pissed that he had to perform it.) I love Oasis, I love Wonderwall, and I always will.
On another note, watching the opening and closing ceremonies and marvelling over how British the performances were, and the fact that I recognised at least 85% of the icons and references on display, made me realise - as if I didn't already know this - how in love I am with the British culture. Of course, this only applies to English literature and truly iconic British bands and singers of the earlier decades (I was irritated that some rap acts showed up to ruin things, and Jesse J? Russell Brand? What the flying fuck?); but I just loved how recognisable almost everything was to me. This makes me feel so much better about not being accepted by Columbia because that rejection gave me this chance to go to London for my Masters, which is probably a much better fit than New York City. My biggest fear right now is that I'd somehow end up hating London after a while; though I can't imagine how I'd ever hate it (though, obviously, you'd never know).