Monday, January 30, 2006

I keep having this odd form of dyslexia lately where I substitute "where" for "wear" and "pears" when I mean "pairs," and just yesterday "to" for "two."

And my thought processes seem to take even stranger turns these days. This morning on the bus, I found myself thinking about Girl Scout cookies, thin mints in particular, and when the ones I've ordered might be in my hot little hands. Admittedly I was just hungry, but then I found myself wondering when I remembered getting them in the past, or when I was a Girl Scout, when they came in. So then I remembered getting them in the sixth grade on the same day that our neighbor's garage just burst in flames while we watched from the patio doors (he had apparently left the car running in it for mere seconds when the whole thing went up. (Of course this brings to mind another neighbor a few houses away, also in January, who while working on his car in the garage, had somehow inadvertently doused himself in gas while under the car (I'm still not to sure how this happened) and had the misfortune to accidently break the trouble light he was using, created a spark, and was seriously burned over 80% of his body. This was much later when I was in college, though.)

Anyway, the day when I was eleven and the garage next door burned down, earlier I had been laying on my bed sucking on cherry Jolly Ranchers (that I'd picked from the rest of the bag and always ate first) and reading this really trashy horror novel about vampires which had a multitude of sex scenes involving all sort of combinations of folks and was probably the dirtiest thing I'd ever read up to that point. And boy, was I was riveted. I have a feeling my bedroom could have burst into flames at that moment and I'd hardly have noticed. And then I realized that was something like 20 years ago, and amazingly I still have such an unbelivably vivid memory of that day its scary. Hell I can't distinguish one day in particular at work from the last ten, but all that's clear as a bell.

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