So I keep a list of the girls I kissed. Mostly I just every once in a while add a journal entry if I've kissed a girl or two in the last six months, and just add them to the list. So I was looking for my journal entry from this winter where I did this and couldn't find it. Dug up an old journal though from four years ago and found the entry with the list in it.
The third girl on the list I can't remember. At all. It's not that I can't remember the circumstances of the kissing. I can't remember her. Drawing a total blank. I have been kind of obsessing about this a little since I discovered this last night. Well, not a complete blank. I have a vague recollection of ... well what do you know? As I write this I am actually recalling the incident.
That's trippy. For some reason I attach a lot of importance to remembering this sort of thing. Point of pride maybe? Or just that I like to think of my kisses as important enough in my life that I remember them? Yeah, I think mostly the latter. Granted, in the grand scheme of things, and even in my life, that drunken make-out session in the lounge of Carter Hall on the UI campus probably has about as much real impact on my life as the price of sorghum in Mongolia. Seriously though, if I'm willing to let someone stick their tongue down my throat it feels like I ought to at least remember it.( Collapse )