Sometimes memories pop into my head and they seem like dreams. And I'm not even talking about from early childhood, this is mostly stuff from high school and early adulthood. Anyone else?
I always have been a little worried that my life was either all someone else's dream and they're going to wake up and it will all be over or that my dreams are real life and what I think is real life is actually a dream. LOL
It got me to thinking about how much of my past is just... gone. I mean, really, unless some hypno-therapist is able to help me recall lost memories, a lot of my life is gone. And maybe I'm being completely narcissistic, but that just seems like a waste to me. Regardless of whether or not my kids will one day want to read my stories, I have the need to write them down. The real, desperate need to cling to what's left in my mind and to not disappear completely when I die. It's weird, I know, but I think it might help some of the anxiety I feel over dying.
There's this internet trend right now called "Throwback Thursday" where people post old photos for the good of the population, reminding us all that we were once young and had no fashion sense. Or maybe more fashion sense. I guess it depends on who's posting. I've never had fashion sense. Well, I have fashion sense in that I know what it looks like, I just have problems making the vision into a reality for my body type and small budget!
Anyway, I'm going to suggest a new trend for Throwback Thursday. Let's write a story. Even if it's short. Even if your memory only allows you to recall two sentences worth, make those two sentences count. And so, because this memory randomly popped into my mind (as it seems to do every so often), inspiring my Facebook post about dreams- here is the story of my trip to Reno. This memory is so faded, I can barely recall it and it's very possible that I have many details completely wrong or mixed up. However, I'm just going to throw the words onto the page and let them stick where they may. It's more important that I write out what I remember than to let the lack of details make me decide that the story isn't worth telling.
(Note: I have never told the details of this story to my parents. So this should be a nice read for them)
Because all our best ideas happen when we are 16, my best friend, Stephanie, and I, realized that it was a great time to pack up her powder blue Honda Civic Hatchback and head to Reno, Nevada, for a ski trip. Here is what I remember from that trip:
* Stephanie chose to snowboard instead of ski. I was a little disappointed because I had never been skiing before and I actually took to it pretty well, which was great but because Stephanie had never been snowboarding and didn't take to it very well, it meant that I was able to make it down the slope way before her and I can't remember if I just ended up riding back up by myself or if I waited for her. I really don't remember. I just remember that she was VERY sore the next day!
* Skiing was sooo much fun! I have pretty good balance and have taken well to roller blading, ice skating, and skiing. I had no winter gear and loaded up on layers which I find funny now because it probably wasn't even that cold and if I went today I would likely wear much less.
* We spent considerable amounts of time in the casinos. At 16. Claiming that we forgot our IDs in our hotel rooms. Over and over. And over. We accomplished this by wearing lots of makeup. HAHA! Or so we thought.
* We played slot machines in several different casinos and were offered drinks by cocktail waitresses. I don't recall ever ordering alcohol (too scared) but I know I got a lot of free coca-cola.
* We met a guy in a casino. I think it was the Silverado. We hung out with him for awhile and then he asked for a ride home. In the middle of nowhere. It was awkward. Especially when he revealed that he was a racist asshole who "didn't want to make no Oreo babies."
* We also met a guy (or two?) on the slopes. I think we hung out with them later around town but I don't remember for sure. They were both more interested in Stephanie (that was the story of my teenage life).
* The most important part of this memory for me is that I had so much fun! It was a time in my life where I just wanted to be away from home and start to explore new freedoms and be more independent. I didn't feel like a kid anymore. I felt like a young adult on an adventure! It was beautiful and fun and scary and amazing.
Thanks for the memories, Stephanie! :) I love you!
OMG.
ReplyDeleteWhen I first saw that you had posted something about Reno, I was confused why I would be tagged in it. My memory must be far worse than yours. It's starting to come back to me now, though. I recall some, but not all, of what you wrote above.
A few memories that I have (or think I have) from this adventure, starting with what is quite possibly one of my favorite memories from that era:
* We couldn't figure out why so many people on the road seemed to be paying attention to us, until we saw that someone (who turned out to be my dad's attorney) had written on the rear window of my car: "I'm a slut. I pay you."
* I'm pretty sure we convinced some old dude (who was probably as old as we are now...) to buy us a six-pack of beer, though I don't recall drinking it. Maybe we gave some to the "no Oreo babies" guy? I think I remember sneaking the 6-pack in through the back of a casino, thinking we were too cool for school.
* If that was actually my first time snowboarding, I remember being so out of control by the bottom of the slope that I accidentally mowed down someone (who turned out to be my dad's girlfriend), and I think I even caused her to sprain her wrist.
Is this all even the same trip? Man, it's been a while...
Oh, I laughed so hard at the slut thing! I had completely forgotten about that! OMG *tears*
DeleteThis all sounds vaguely familiar. This might have been your second time snowboarding but I think it was your first. I know your dad's girlfriend was along during this trip. I don't even remember where we stayed. Were we in a hotel? I have a very vague memory of being in the room in the morning and you were in so much pain you didn't want to leave the room.
I know I didn't drink any beer. I was not interested in beer at all at that time. I was more of a schnapps girl. ;)
Sadly, I only have one photo from the trip, if I even still have it. It was a polaroid I took of you at some scenic outlook.
Some old dude... LOL!
That was a lot of fun :)