every day, when you're walking down the street...

Mom: Are you sure you don't want to, um, change? Are you sure it's not a little... too much?
Me: NO MUM GO AWAY LET ME WEAR WHAT I WANT. (bursts into a fit of hysteria) (except not) (but the essence of this conversation did occur)

You really can't go wrong with sequins. Or cheetah. Or balloons. Or colours. Or, yeah, whatever. I'm basically a melting pot of amazingness, pfffftttt. Enjoy, kiddos. (Also, I muse about nostalgia and memories and jazz. So I don't know, if you feel like musing with me, then read my rambles. Else wise, I highly recommend that you don't. I am not liable for your boredom.)

I've recently been feeling very... nostalgic. I'm sure that this is the nature of graduating (OH HI 10 WEEKS BABY), but it freaks me out. Yesterday, my childhood friend and her family came up to see me (we live five hours apart). Initially, I sided with the perspective of, "Oh well, hello, awkward reunion icky poop," but it was actually really fun and brought back a lot of childhood GTs (translation: good times!).

It's weird, though. Thinking back on childhood and all that lovely jazz. When I think of it, the MOST RANDOM, INSIGNIFICANT memories come up. Like (warning: boring/insignificant/random childhood memory coming right up), the time when I brought my purple, plastic film camera to school. My friend brought hers as well. We were taking pictures of teachers/peers. I asked my teacher, Ms. Lynn, for a picture. She didn't believe my camera was real. I told her it was. She stuck her tongue for the picture. After she said, "Oh, it is real!!! I saw the flash!!!!" I still have a picture of Ms. Lynn sticking her tongue out. Yeah. The end of the best story you've probably ever heard. I could probably spew some random interpretation for why this came to mind, but I won't. It really is just a random memory.

I guess that I've just been questioning the nature of memory and, you know, WHAT MOMENTS OF OUR LIFE DO WE REMEMBER? There's so much that happens in a day that it's simply impossible to remember EVERY SINGLE DETAIL - what we said, what we learned, who we conversed with, the order of events, etc. I mean, what made my average joe saturday special? What will I remember from it next week? Probably nothing out of the ordinary. Is this a bad thing? Will Saturday, April 9, 2011 go in my memory book as simply "forgotten"? Yes.

The amount of time that passes - and the speed of it - sincerely freaks me out. It scares me how all these mundane memories - simply because they are a part of routine - pass over me. Even when I'm experiencing amazingness, it's like BAM!, I still forget so many details and moments and memories. I would NOT be able to tell you thorough details about my trip to Nepal, or the time I spent with my cousins when they visited, or my experiences working with the play and et cetera et cetera. They were special times, times I cherished. Yet, still. SO MUCH FORGOTTEN. I guess I'm realizing just how much of life is a bluuuurrrrrrr. (See what I did there? I made blur actually look like a blur. hah.)

I don't know. I suppose I'm just intrigued with the idea of memory and what we remember and what we forget. And ARE we supposed to remember our life in its entirety? I've considered writing it all down, but that's a little mundane. I guess, there are all those *special days* that, you know, just stick. But what about the rest? Just forgotten? A blur? Yeah, basically. Maybe life isn't about holding onto these memories, but learning from them. Or maybe it's about finding ways to CREATE these memories that stick.

As I continue to funnel through life (hah, that's sounds so ouber depressing, yowzaaa!), I wonder what memories will percolate to the top. What will I cherish from my good ole' high school days? I'm excited at the prospect of accumulating so many more wondrous memories in my life time - but I'm also scared about all the ones that will inevitably fade. I know it's not something really to fret about. I know it's just life. But... still. I don't know. It's something I've been thinking about as I struggle to pull more memories from when I was a young chum.

Sorry about the "ah, here my life story" nature of this post. I think that this is just one of those whenyoureallythinkaboutit things. And I'm just, yeah, thinkingaboutit...

(Blazer - Vintage $15, Shirt - Value Village/ Thrifted $3, Skirt - Value Village/ Thrifted $3, Tights - Unknown, Shoes - Vintage $30, Balloon Bib - DIY, Belt - Pacific Mall $10)

^Diva smooches to go with my ridiculous - ahem, AMAZING - sparkle-infested blazaaah. Bitchezzz.

Your thoughts? On the nature of memory? How blurry life is? How we live and we forget?
(Vague questions... er, room for interpretation.)

P.S. A few days ago, I decided to eat my lunch with this boy in grade 9. I wasn't engrossed in the conversation around me. Sooo, I left. He was eating all alone. So, I figured I'd be friendly and pop by and chat. He's a nice kid. I got, like, 14 dirty stares from kids in other grades. I just think it's interesting. High school...