Happy Monday.

Last Tuesday evening, I drove over to Batman's parents' house for dinner. A large glass of chardonnay was placed into my hand, and I, a lightweight among lightweights, proceeded to get progressively more intoxicated while I conversed with his mom - seriously one of the neatest people I know. She cooked a fabulous gourmet meal and helped me to design, er, something important that has to do with the wedding. ;) I stayed until about 11 PM and had such a nice time. It makes me so thankful that Batman and I decided to look each other up a few years ago after a 7-year radio silence, during which we separately experienced the trials and tribulations of college and grad school. We both went from being kind of odd teenagers to becoming quite unusual adults, in very different ways. I wouldn't have a bridesman without him.

Later in the evening, Batman and I were chatting about high school and earlier childhood memories. Our conversations are always frought with puns, inappropriate missteps made on purpose, and laughing - only very rarely do we ever get serious. While I was practicing piano and flute, watching Ranma 1/2 and reading up a storm, he was out accomplishing feats worthy of James Bond... If James Bond happened to get bored one day and and had a subconscious desire to wreck some loaner vehicles. I'll stop there. :X

I reminisced about the time that I spent over at that house as a young teenager, and I could remember every single day. And at least four events that happened during each day, in crystal clear detail. It was at that moment that I realized that I can remember almost any day of my life if I wrote at all about that day.

Another strange thing. If I hear a particular song by Andreas Vollenweider, I can remember... Being in utero. I kid you not. I was always disturbed by his music, but I couldn't put my finger on why (other than the fact that it's weird) until I was probably about 10 or 11 years old and understood somewhat of a baby's development process.

I can't stand his music - not because I find it distasteful, but because it completely freaks me out. The weight of all of my experiences becomes the lens through which I view one of my first experiences WITHOUT having any of that weight. It's almost physically shocking. It's something like going to the art museum as a child and viewing a beautiful painting, but you're so distracted by the whirlwind of life, so inexperienced in the realm of paintings that you don't even see it. You go back to the museum years later and realize the painting is one of the most meaningful pieces of art you've ever seen.