Walking down memory lane
Oct. 13th, 2002 04:20 pmRight now, I'm sitting in my old room in my mom's house. It's not the room I grew up in, though, my parents only moved into this house a year before I got married. But still, all my stuff is here. My stuffed animals, my riding gear, boxes full of letters from old friends, pictures, books. Even old records. Madonna, U2, A-Ha, New Kids on the Block... *ahem* I think we can stop now *g*
I love looking through old things, remembering friends, boyfriends, situations... Memories are the best thing. I can never throw anything away, because I always have to go through everything to try to see if there's anything important there that I might want to keep. And then I start remembering, and I get this feeling that *everything* in there is important. Everything is a little bit of memory. And so I'm an incurable packrat...
The most interesting discovery, however, was in my bedside table drawer. A book called "Sex Tips for Girls: All the Things Your Mother Really Never Told You". Now, this book was published in 1983. I was only 6 years old then. I have absolutely no idea how this book ended up in my hands, and quite frankly, I don't wanna know. The options are way too disturbing :P
But I have very clear memories of the first time I read it. I was around 14 years old, and unnaturally innocent even for that age. The book scared me half to death. Really. I re-read it yesterday, and it's not that bad. I mean, the book is pretty bad, but it's not that scary anymore. Of course, I now actually know what she's talking about, so that helps :)
I think I'll go lie down in the hammock and re-read "The Chronicles of Narnia" for the umpteenth time. That's a less traumatic journey through my childhood :)
I love looking through old things, remembering friends, boyfriends, situations... Memories are the best thing. I can never throw anything away, because I always have to go through everything to try to see if there's anything important there that I might want to keep. And then I start remembering, and I get this feeling that *everything* in there is important. Everything is a little bit of memory. And so I'm an incurable packrat...
The most interesting discovery, however, was in my bedside table drawer. A book called "Sex Tips for Girls: All the Things Your Mother Really Never Told You". Now, this book was published in 1983. I was only 6 years old then. I have absolutely no idea how this book ended up in my hands, and quite frankly, I don't wanna know. The options are way too disturbing :P
But I have very clear memories of the first time I read it. I was around 14 years old, and unnaturally innocent even for that age. The book scared me half to death. Really. I re-read it yesterday, and it's not that bad. I mean, the book is pretty bad, but it's not that scary anymore. Of course, I now actually know what she's talking about, so that helps :)
I think I'll go lie down in the hammock and re-read "The Chronicles of Narnia" for the umpteenth time. That's a less traumatic journey through my childhood :)
no subject
on 2002-10-13 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2002-10-19 10:11 pm (UTC)See, you're not alone!