All the Horrible Girliness

I'm going to Denver next week. I grew up there. I hate visiting, not only because family drama is just... ludicrous; not only because there may be snow and ice and cold. Because people there might know me. The anonymity that comes from living many states away from where you grew up is absolute luxury. Plus, I have a brain problem.

I don't remember people. They look familiar, but I long ago swapped out people's names for things like four-digit produce codes (grocery store checker) and the names of every muscle in the human body (massage therapist). I don't remember long division, I don't remember my home phone number, and I don't remember your name, even though you were the friend of my friend's boyfriend and we dated for two months before you went to juvy. I'm sorry.

I can quote Clueless, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and National Lampoon's Vacation from start to finish, though. And quite frankly, I'd rather be able to do that than remember your name.

Plus, I didn't really like Denver. I didn't like who I was in Denver. You remind me of that time. You are Wiccan rituals, the marching band, the Renaissance Fair(e), and Lithium. You are forty extra pounds, the ice scraper, the Doc Martens, the Caramello-and-Grandmothers-Cookie-sandwich breakfasts, AOL. You are Bible-thumping, sex with strangers, mean Koreans, community college.

I am going back to see my parents and my grandpa. Also, to sleep. I will sleep twelve hours a night to make up for the last year. I will go to the hot springs and soak, get a massage, let my husband's mind rest. I will hug my grandpa every possible moment. It might be fun to make my aunt uncomfortable.

I do not want to reminisce. I will not attend my ten-year high school reunion next year. I pity the people who will.

So if you see me, don't assume I remember you. If it makes you feel better, know that I have become a stark raving rude bitch, and leave me alone.

posted by Samus @ 10:41 AM