Thursday, June 16, 2005


I've been tagged, and I should probably do this in Memeland, but I'm not, because I'm lazy, and tired, and just getting over being sick and I should be in bed. But I want to catch up. {pffltp}

The Rules:
Remove the #1 item from the following list, bump everyone up one place and add your blog’s name in the #5 spot. You need to actually link to each of the blogs for the link-whorage aspect of this fiendish meme to kick in. (Doesn't this seem shamelessly like a chain letter to you?) Then, replace my memories with your own.

Johnnie Walker
Get It All Down
This Much is True

My Memories:
  1. My earliest memory is of me sitting on the couch in the living room while Mom paid bills at the dining room table, probably around age 3. Mom was doing something Important, and I was too: scribbling in her address book, in pencil. Those scribbles are still in there, too.
  2. I remember waking up one morning when I was around 8 years old and realizing that I was absolutely comfortable. Nothing hurt, nothing was in the "wrong spot." Everything was perfect. And I knew I'd never be that comfortable again. Kind of "The Lost Chord" of comfort. (If you don't know what the lost chord reference is, go here.)
  3. It's good to remember, in those moments of realization that I'm completely out of physical shape, that I once: 1) marched 5+ miles in a parade, and 2) spent two days digging a giant hole in the ground with my dad at 8,000 feet above sea level. Not that I could do it again, mind you. But I could, once.
  4. The day I got married was hot. Well, it was July, after all. When we turned to say our vows (I refused to wear glasses, so I was legally blind for the ceremony), all I could see what a drop of sweat at the end of the Beast's nose. And his smile. I don't remember anything else about the service.
  5. Feeding Sparky rice cereal, his first 'real food,' was quite the experience. Fortunately, it was warm enough to strip him down to a diaper and me (or Beast) to a rag shirt and shorts. Of about four ounces of cereal, about two went in eventually. The rest went everywhere: on his hands, on my hands, on my clothes, on the floor, on the table, on his carrier (because he couldn't sit up yet). It was one of the best memories I have of his babyhood. That, and his first bath, in the kitchen sink, which weirdly was more bonding than feeding him had been up to that point.
Now tag four more people:
Jenny (you really need to get a blog, girl!)
Angel (who says he started a blog, but didn't give me the address, the dope)

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