Wednesday, July 16, 2008

amoebic memoirs

I never thought this would come out my mouth this week:

1)Are you the fella who hung his ballbag out the top of his jean pant?

2)Next time Ned Flanders is in town, zyphe his Jesus Christ sandals. They're all the rage.

That's all.

Oh and ranbulate is to dry hump something. More common in nature, and as seen at the Colony Arms. Rhinos do it to trees; drunk people do it to walls.

It's like wanking and polar bears. Completely different.

I was chatting to someone the other day on how we remember people. People that are no longer in our lives for whatever reasons. If we could choose only one memory, one vivid memory to remember someone by, what would it be?

Do you have to involuntarily choose that specific memory, or has it stuck in your brain and is the first thing that comes up, whether you like it or not?

I suppose it differs from scenario to scenario. And each memory is very significant on how you choose to see the person for the rest of time.

That's pretty powerful.

Of course, we remember people by swarms of things – and so many things jog the memory banks to begin with. Music, smells, places. But let's say for argument's sake we have the brain capacity of an amoeba. One cell. Each person gets one brief flash.

And so? For example:

My French boyfriend: Following me to Italy wearing a backpack with two things inside it: his toothbrush, and a newspaper with le footbol results.

My father: An image of him 'sharpening his teeth' on a windowsill in front of my Grandmother and all her book club ladies when he was 12. I wasn't there – I wasn't even a gamete - but that sums him up in one vivid flash. Eccentric and off-beat, to be diplomatic.
Perhaps the knobbly-kneed little dude in his Clifton uniform, the black and white picture I have of him at school.

My mother: Tottering around Bangkok, fully taking the Thai culture by the horns when she lived there. At one stage she was wearing a Vietnamese rice paddy triangle hat out on the sky train, to the market, and on the back of motorcycle scooters.

Just one flash. It can be pretty commanding.
In moving on from bad experiences, and for keeping things in perspective when it comes to the people that weren't or aren't so special.

It can also concrete the amazing people in your life in one memory montage, and make you realise why you love them so much. Like family and amazing friends.

PS: Oh and late on the uptake, but guess whose coming to town? Lionel VoiceGod Richie. I have to go. Somehow.

22 comments:

Revolving Credit said...

Ja, it's kinda strange what just flashes to mind, isn't it ..sometimes it's just a hum.......poedendum deedle dum...

Peas on Toast said...

OK Rev - so I cringe to ask, but what the hell...Do your memory banks flash montages of poens?

Oh God. Oh God.

;)

Revolving Credit said...

No pics, just a tune...mmmm..mmmmmmm.mmmmm....he hums to himself.

Peas on Toast said...

Peas:....and probably the most catchy tune of all, coined by the encouragable Rev, who should probably patent this: 'Nik Nak smelly snack give a poen a hone...'

Dude we still laugh about that. All this time. :)

Nessers said...

I agree with the memory thing. I have a completely involuntary memory of my ex boyfriend which is wickedly raunchy but does not help in my attempts to get over him - I wonder if a hypnotist could help with that?

Peas on Toast said...

Nessers - a hypnotist could I'm sure, but you could also try this: think of the worst possible memory you have of him. Something that either turns you off completely, or something just very vivid that keeps things in perspective. You'd have to think about it maybe - then just flip to that chosen memory when you need to.

I dunno, I find it works like a charm.

kyknoord said...

If I could have just one memory, it would be where I left my sodding keys.

Peas on Toast said...

Ah. Can't help you there Kyk. I lose mine EVERY. SINGLE.DAY.

I even have a 'key bowl' by my door. And they're never there. Ever.

Lisa said...

I love this idea...
beautiful

Peas on Toast said...

Lisa - flash memory: you, me and Jam jumping about/doing sterling dance moves on that new loft office floor!
:)

The good old days! xx

Lisa said...

we were such hot stuff!
flash memory: you coming into our office when i just started, ordering latte's and announcing to me and jam (to the over-extended ears of the *ahem*ppl we shared the office with).."Dude, I'm bald!"
...we have never heard the end of it from you-know-who

Mini said...

Nesser

I once again remind you ladies on how to get over the guy....."Get a friend with benefits!"

Definately works,if you allow it to.

Yo Sweet Pea.Missed the blog.lol

Peas on Toast said...

Lisa - oh my GOD. hahahahaha! WHAT?! Seriously, did I say that?? And with...you know, listening in?

How excruciatingly embarrassing! :)

Mini - howzit! Yip, you don't need to tell me babe, I'm luckily pretty well-versed/experienced in getting over people as quickly as emotionally possible. But Nessers - this is good advice babe. Replace with someone else! :)

Ches said...

My one memory of Lionel Richie would be the music video where the blind chick with the afro and one piece ballet suit answers the phone saying, 'Hello, is it me you're looking for...la da di di doo do da, da da di di la di dooo!'

Thinks I was like 5, or something!

Peas on Toast said...

Ches - he's such a classic. God I HAVE to go. Even if it's just me and my lighter.

All those classics - Dancin' On The Ceiling, Say You Say Me....oh my god, heaven.

Or hell, for others, I'd imagine. :)

Ches said...

Ah Peas, it may just be you and your lighter...and my sister, and the girl in the ballet one piece! :)

Peas on Toast said...

...and my gran.

We'll open a bottle of wine first, then it'll be EXTRA amazing! :)

Ches said...

...just don't fall off the ceiling! ;)

Peas on Toast said...

Dude imagine the Lionel Richie mosh pit for a second.

It's going to car-ray-zee.

Lisa said...

i'm coming with!
can't wait to do the diana ross duet out loud!

SheBee said...

Oh my god, I don't know whats worse, Ches knowing the lyrics or you seriously wanting to go.

Ewwww, Lionel!

Ohmygodimisscommentingonyourblogatwork!

/end.

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