More from yesteryear…
The classmates.com experience has started me down a road of nostalgia for which I was ill prepared. I’m not exactly certain why I keep thinking about high school and college so much but it’s certainly become a fact.
For the most part, I have a very bad memory. It’s a blessing. My mother can remember almost every fight I had with my girlfriends and what they were about but I’ve successfully managed to wipe all of that from my brain.
Sidenote: I have a theory that our brains, well at least my brain, can only hold some much information. So if I were to, let’s say, actually memorize my home phone number (which I have yet to do), that bit of information would replace some other vital piece of knowledge, like a Nigel quote from The Devil Wears Prada. Choices have to be made and there are just some things that should remain etched in one’s memory.
So I firmly believe that my years as an EA have filled my brain with so much information, some useless, some not, that I’ve managed to forget most of the negative from high school and remember only the positive.
The classmates.com experience has started me down a road of nostalgia for which I was ill prepared. I’m not exactly certain why I keep thinking about high school and college so much but it’s certainly become a fact.
For the most part, I have a very bad memory. It’s a blessing. My mother can remember almost every fight I had with my girlfriends and what they were about but I’ve successfully managed to wipe all of that from my brain.
Sidenote: I have a theory that our brains, well at least my brain, can only hold some much information. So if I were to, let’s say, actually memorize my home phone number (which I have yet to do), that bit of information would replace some other vital piece of knowledge, like a Nigel quote from The Devil Wears Prada. Choices have to be made and there are just some things that should remain etched in one’s memory.
So I firmly believe that my years as an EA have filled my brain with so much information, some useless, some not, that I’ve managed to forget most of the negative from high school and remember only the positive.
However, my college experience is different. I can remember almost entire conversations along with what has to be every fight I ever had with my roommates. For the most part, I had pretty nice roommates. In fact, only 2 of them were straight from the bowels of hell. One girl had a strange obsession with taking showers. She would get up in the morning, shower, go to her AEROBICS (seriously, not kidding) class, come home, take a shower, go to class, come home for lunch, take a nap, take a shower, go to chapter, come home, take a shower, go out with friends, come home, take a shower and then go to bed. Really, what human needs 5 showers in one day? It was down-right infuriating.
The other one was from freshman year and I have only just started to get over her. I know that sounds weird but let me explain. She had the ability to figure out your deepest insecurities and then pounce on them. She made fun of me for pretty much everything I did that made me, me. I’ll save her full story for another day but let’s just say, she became my inner critic and I have only in the last year managed to shut her up.
I did have one other roommate that, depending on the story, was either a complete whack job or my closest friend. She loved to be miserable. I’m sure everyone knows at least one person who, no matter how sunny, can manage to find the gray cloud.
Eeyore.
Well, during my junior year I was pretty miserable. The boyfriend (the same guy who brought Mrs. JT and me back together) was not exactly working out. On paper, he was great. Reality was a different story. You can’t make yourself love someone no matter how hard you try. That was also the year I was diagnosed with IBS. See the pattern there? But through it all, there were lunches with Eeyore at Rudy Tuesday’s. We’d complain for hours. It was bliss.
The summer before, the family had taken a trip to visit my aunt and uncle in Shreveport and we decided to go just a little further west to Dallas. I remember falling in love with Dallas but I have no memory of why exactly. Regardless, that spring the Monet exhibit was coming to town. Eeyore and I loved Monet. She was an art history minor and I’d fallen in love during my trip to Paris in high school. All year long we talked about our trip to Dallas to see that exhibit. We planned and planned and planned.
And never went.
When it came right down to actually getting in the car, she wasn’t into it. Had a whole bag of excuses most of which I can’t remember but I feel certain it was another way to find the bad in something good.
All these years later, here I am living near Dallas (not in, please don’t ever tell someone I live IN Dallas), the city I loved for reasons I can’t remember with an impressionist exhibit at a museum in Fort Worth. I have no idea what happened to Eeyore. After she attempted to dodge our rehearsal dinner in favor of taking a nap (yep), I decided it was probably time to move on from that relationship.
Eeyore taught me a lot though. Now, I look for the sun on cloudy days or even better yet, am grateful for those cloudy days. I still love Monet and one day before the exhibit leaves, I’ll finally get the chance to have that experience I planned for years ago. It just seems so strange how life comes full circle.
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