memory timeshares

my memory cabin is like my self control around gummy bears. nonexistant. i really don't think i can have just one place to go to - i have like 10 places where i like to relax and think about stuff, and as far as an old abandoned church is concerned...well, that just seems drafty and creepy to me. i feel most comfortable storing my thoughts in different places - my self loathing memories are reserved for the spot in front of the mirror in my room. my aggressive memories are in my workout brain. my calm memories are stored in my "lets take a walk" brain, my organizational memories are in my bed, at approximately right before i fall asleep, and i know my super happy memories are stored in my mind all over the place, but they usually come to me when i'm spooning. spooning evokes happy memories. anyway, i'm not sure if i can build a memory cabin, because i like the way my memories are all scattered and kept under different roofs. it's more like i have a bunch of memory timeshares that i make annual payments to in order to reap the benefits.

but i do have one place that i think about alot, and i hope my memories from it never fade entirely - it's the house i grew up in on wagon boss rd. it's on a double cul-de-sac, and it's on an acre and a half of the best yard ever. tons of trees, a hill perfect for rolling down in the summer and mini-sledding down in the winter. i had a chartreuse room, a hot pink room, and a basement where all my barbies lived. 16 foot high vaulted ceilings and a piano that was so out of tune, the blind dude who came to fix it one day pretty much laughed for an hour while he tried to make it not suck. i took lessons on that piano. maybe that's why when i play hot cross buns, it sounds more like a dying seal. anyway, this house is the bomb. and i say "is" because i can still see it every time i go to my parents present home sweet home - it's literally through the trees. see, we loved the neighborhood so dang much, we moved back - only to a different, but equally awesome house (not as many trees, but whatever). but, because i have a life and i don't live with my parents, i don't see my old house as much as i'd like. and i'd like to make it my memory cabin, but i know the people who moved into it after we left messed with it and remodeled my dream house into an abomination of 8434 wagon boss rd. now every time i think of my house, i also think about what it might look like on the inside now that new freaks live there. ok, that's not fair, i don't know if they're freaks - but i do know the dad punched one of our beloved cul-de-sac neighbors over a dog problem. for seriously. blasphemy! they don't deserve our house!

so if my memory cabin is currently a work in progress, i guess i'll talk about what we did in class on friday....well, we talked more about how plato hated the idea of writing because it makes your memory muscles get flabby - which, actually, i don't necessarily agree with - in this day and age, writing is how we remember (along with massive amounts of pictures posted on facebook), so for us, aren't we actually flexing our memory muscles? take that plato - i totally p'wnd your theory. go pontificate somewhere else, old man.

i also took some notes about....oh, hey, there are the lyrics to a paramore song written in some awesome purple pen...whoops! guess i wasn't paying attention like i should have, and now i can't really remember what we talked about. but i do know i'm still kindof confused on what we're supposed to be reading, and what our reading groups are supposed to be doing. i'm in group 3, so that means i'm presenting stuff on chapter 4, right?

i guess my goals for this week are to find out what's going on, find a cabin in the woods, and find a better way to take notes ;)
p.s. i've had the business of misery stuck in my head for like a year - seriously, it won't leave. i've written the lyrics to it so many times during so many classes. dang you, paramore! and your catchy lyrics!