The year was 1990. Kids were wearing Hypercolor T-shirts and listening to Paula Abdul. Adults, meanwhile, were rushing to the theaters to see “Ghost,” “Pretty Woman” and “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.” I, however, was completely content sitting at home, watching television and spending quality time with a dear friend.

This companion of mine was everything a suburban middle-school girl wanted to be: blonde, beautiful and the girlfriend of the cutest guy in school. And, although you may consider our friendship somewhat one-sided, she was always around for me when I needed her, which was usually on Wednesday nights.

You probably know this companion of mine. As a matter of fact, I am sure you can identify her, as well as five or six of her closest friends and their favorite hangout. And you definitely know their zip code.

But, alas, my days of friendship with Kelly Taylor concluded this week as the doors of Beverly Hills High closed for good. Whether you liked the show, “Beverly Hills, 90210” was the icon of a generation. And, although I stopped watching six years ago, a tiny part of me was sad to see the show conclude.

By just hearing a bit of the theme song, I still can recall the days when friends and I would debate if we’d rather be Kelly or Brenda, or if we’d sooner date Brandon than Dylan. Maybe it was Donna’s changing hairstyles that enticed us to tune in every week, or the thought of gathering at the Peach Pit to watch Brandon flip burgers. Whatever the reason, the hour between 8 and 9 p.m. on Wednesdays was our time — a period for my pre-teen friends and I to tune out the rest of the world and turn on the life of shopping, sex and hair gel.

Although growing up in Hollywood, Florida, 33021, wasn’t exactly the life portrayed on “90210,” we still tuned in each week — not because we thought ourselves to be like Brenda and the rest of the Beemer-driving crew, but because we lived vicariously through them. I never thought high school would be filled with summers lying out at the beach club or traveling in Paris. But my friends and I nevertheless watched religiously to find out if Kelly would survive the fire or if Donna Martin would, in fact, graduate.

And I guess that’s what it comes down to — whether it’s watching “9-0” in 1990 or tuning in today to the show’s contemporary counterparts. Even 10 years later, my friends at Northwestern still gather Wednesday nights, but these days they opt for “Dawson’s Creek” or “Felicity.” And they’ll admit that it’s a similar sort of vicariously lived satisfaction they seek, gladly leaving their banal suburban college world each week for the opportunity to spend a few minutes with Dawson’s crew.

There’s something to be said about the escape element inherent in teen dramas, about getting wrapped up in the exciting lives of the eternally youthful teens and twentysomethings on such shows. As pre-teens, my friends and I looked forward to the high school adventures portrayed on “90210,” hoping our lives would be as exciting as theirs. And now, in college, we watch Joey choose between Pacey and Dawson, recalling days of bygone youth.

Watching teen dramas, for a few brief moments, we walk in the designer shoes of the Beverly Hills gang or in the sandals of Dawson’s friends. Ask most teens or twentysomethings these days and they will confess: We’re up the “Creek” and loving it.