Memories are funny things

I am LOVING my new deck. I have the french doors open all day – even though it’s the middle of winter – so that the fresh air can flow through the kitchen and living room. Bliss.

I’m also hoping that keeping the doors open will train the dogs not to be scared of the deck, although that’s happening very slowly. Bilbo just can’t get his head around the little step that leads into the house. He has an anxiety attack every time and hunches down in fear.

My brain also played tricks on me yesterday and had me lifting my foot to take an extra step into the house like I used to.

Memory is a funny thing – I forgot how to get to the restaurant on Thursday night.

Not proper forgot, but I was driving across the Harbour Bridge while talking to my friend Megz on speakerphone and, while I knew lots of ways to get to Oxford Street, I could not for the life of me remember the way I usually take to get there.

I am not enjoying this getting old and forgetful business. It’s blah.

Megz has the opposite problem: she remembers far too much. She has photographic recall of our entire high school lives. I get a bit terrified sometimes when I‘m talking to her because I don’t remember most of high school. There are only the tiniest of snippets left in my mind, a bit like the ones you retain about your early childhood.

I’m a member of the Kotara High School Facebook page and people were reminiscing the other day about school dances. One person said they remembered Juke Box and DV8 playing at them. I don’t.

Megz said she had her first kiss when DV8 played at a school dance in 1982. See what I mean? She even remembers the YEAR.

About all I recall from the school dances … and this is VERY embarrassing … is that I may have shared my first kiss at one with a boy from another school who was missing teeth … and not because his adult ones hadn’t come through yet …

OK, there’s no “may” about it. It actually happened.

Megz would know all the details, but I’m very happy to have forgotten them. I should have put the hard word on a boy Stuart Keats instead, he was a sweetheart. I think he thought I was alright too, despite telling me I had a “sock tan” … ie I was VERY pale.

I also had a massive crush on a boy called Chris Evans … there was some serious stalking involved in that one. He looked like this …

But I ended up dating another boy in year 12, fortunately with a full set of teeth, plus a bomber jacket and passion to save the Franklin River. He was my date to the Year 12 formal … no spray tans and professional hair and make-up back then …

My dress was also a little controversial for its time, as everyone else wore pastel taffeta.

Michael and I dated for long after that, six years all up. Followed soon after by 24 years with my ex and even sooner after that by five years with DD. I’m quite the serial monogamist.

Oh and this is Megz and I with our other high school mates then and now:

Megz is the one on the left in the top photo. The things hanging out of our mouths are lolly snakes. Some things still look the same.

Oh, and I’ve told you all of this before. I don’t remember doing it, but the photos were in the back end of the website, so I must have. Eeek.

OK, gotta go. Have a good weekend. Mine will be very wet, but has some potentially bulk fun bits in it. Will advise on Monday.

Song of the day: Sarah McLachlan “I will remember you”