Surreally Seducted: Damn You Salvador Dalí!

One monkey promoting the ceaseless propagation of useless crap on the internets since a long time ago.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

My faulty memory

My memory for places is much better than my memory for faces. I can remember the old houses nearly perfectly, even the rooms we rarely ventured into. Shortly before we moved, we remodeled the kitchen and expanded the master bathroom. Now, normally this would require eating out every night, but not in this house. This house had a reserve kitchen. A reserve kitchen complete with stove, oven, and fridge. We moved the old kitchen table adjacent to this reserve kitchen, and ate our meals there. I still have an affinity for cereal out of paper/cardboard bowls. Things outside of the meals were pretty stressful with some long-distance commuting by my father, but for some reason, eating out of paper bowls and paper plates with plastic forks and knives made for a good time. And yet, I am sure this is not how it was. I am sure there was tension. I am sure there were fights. But please, leave me my happy memories. I have forgotten all the ills.

I can give that house a pretty good description, at least pre-remodeling. The other houses as well. I can even remember whole rooms, and how the related to each other. When it comes to faces, however, I can only remember bits and pieces at a time. I remember the cheeks, the eyes, the lips and nose all as separate entities. If I try to remember the whole face and how all these pieces relate, it dissolves away.