12,296 1/4 days

July 21, 2004 at 4:04 pm (Uncategorized)

That’s how many days I have been alive. (and yes you anal retentives, I counted leap years…hence the 1/4th)  11,201 days is approximately how long I have been old enough to have memories.  That would make me three years old and that’s the first memory I had… busting my eyebrow open on the window sash and having to have it sewn up.  So, give or take a thousand or so days, that’s a lot of days. That’s a lot of memories. 

Not all of those memories are good ones.  For some reason, I have an unusually evolved, technicolor memory.  I can remember conversations practically down to the punctuation.  OY!  However, I needlessly torment myself by remembering shit better left forgotten.  Keep the lesson, drop the memory, drop the baggage.

A way I have figured out to do this while “peeling the onion” is to know, not pretending anymore, to know I only have so many slots for memories.  I no longer have infinite memory slots, now they are finite.  With this finite number of slots I now have to decide how to fill them.  What moron would fill them with bad memories?  Not I!!

For example:  My friend AZ and I have had some pretty wonderful times together, things we both remember.  They have significance if for nothing more than to think of something good rather than bad.  A time when life wasn’t perfect but together, it made us forget that for a while. 

Hee hee, one night AZ and I were messing around, not sure how we even got to his place of employment, I’m sure he would remember that part but we weren’t alone so we went outside.  It was dark, thankfully, and we walked around the corner of the building where this big tree was.  Before long I was pressed up against the building with his mouth on my bare breasts (still have NO idea how that happened so fast) and suddenly a helicopter with a searchlight flew over.  SHIT!!  Figured we were busted but actually a train had hit a car at the crossing.  Whew!  Anyway, years later AZ called me and told me they had cut “our” tree down.  Whaaaaa!!!  No matter, the building is still there and I still feel the brick against my back. 

Another time, we were in the middle of doing things we shouldn’t be, again in his place of employment although not the same place as before and, well, frankly, it was late and deserted but we just shouldn’t have been there doing what we were doing for a multitude of reasons, however, there we were.  We heard a click and more noise… shit!!  Gonna get busted and luckily with a few nips, tucks and zips we were decent.  AZ goes to head off whoever it is, comes back in, I believe he may have been laughing, but it was just the fax machine.  BUSTED BY THE FAX MACHINE!!!

Ha! Well, it happens.  I have a lot more stories about AZ and none of them bad.  Not that we haven’t fussed and shit happened between us but I have no capacity to see any of it as bad.  It happened for a reason that was later revealed and he’s the one person I can say knows the most about me, the honest, insecure me, and still likes me anyway.  I know a lot about him too.  It took him a lot longer to come clean with me about some things but now that I know, I not only still like him, but I like him better.   I realize that folks believe when you open up you make yourself vulnerable.  If you do to the wrong people, you are vulnerable.  To the right people, it only makes you more human in their eyes.  It proves you are fallible and imperfect, just like they are.

I digress.  The memory slots… getting there.  So, there’s two memories of me and AZ, this most wonderful, important person in my life and I will fill Memory Slots 1 and 2 with these memories.  Now, this is the hard part.  I have to give up 3 bad memories for each slot.  I now am responsible for giving up 6 bad memories.  For Memory Slot 1, I give up anyone who has ever made fun of me for being messy and making me feel bad about myself because I am.  I give up the guilt I felt because I called my host mother a bitch when I lived in Germany and she found out about it.  She read my diary, I deserved privacy.  I give up the hatred I have felt towards my mother for writing that horrible letter right after I went to Germany. 

Now, I have to write that down somewhere else.  If I ever think of those bad memories again, I have to think of AZ pressing me up against that building.  Those bad memories no longer exist in my memory slots.  Good bye!!

And so, it will go on and I will bore you or excite you with further details as they become available.  For now, I have to write down my lost memories and fill them with something good.  And… I’m writing a letter to AZ and I just had an epiphany. 


  1. Queenie said,

    Do not forget to see the good in bad.


  2. Seeker said,

    You Rule! Well not as much as me ,but close!

  3. Inanna said,

    Q – you’re absolutely right. I keep the lesson and the strength but its time to drop the hurt.

    Seeker – Hee hee, I rule!!

  4. Avuncular 1 said,

    My third birthday was my firts memory too. Well, at least the first memory that I could attach to a date.
    My memory functions the same as yours it seems, with the same drawbacks.
    I can relate to this post in so many ways.

  5. Mike said,

    I want to give a brief scenario so you’ll have an idea how bad my memory is. I work in a building that is roughly 80 feet long and 30 feet wide, and crammed with various types machinery. I start in one end of said building setting up a job on any one of those machine and I realize I need a particular tool thats located on the far end of the building. So off I go to get the tool I’m desperately in need of. Walking, walking, stop and answer employee question, walk some more. Back to my machine. Damn, I was going to the back of the shop. Walking, walking. Ok at the back of the shop. …… what was it I needed? Oh yeah! Now heading back to my machine. Answer a few more questions on the way. Check on job progress while I’m at it, get back to my machine. Shit!! Where did the tool I just had in my hand go? So we start over. Get the idea? Typical day for me. Its not just work. I forget everything. Its not that I’m forgetful really its that I have so much rollin through my head at one time that some things kinda get lost in the mix.

  6. Zelda said,

    I couldn’t have been more than 2, but I have this faint memory of being in a train station with a black and white tiled floor and it was raining. I think it was in Iran (no joke). My mom can’t remember it, so she can’t tell me.

  7. jp said,

    I was 3 also. Got bit on my top lip by a dog. I remember being carried to the car in my dad’s arms and being stitched up (15 stitches) by the doctor.

  8. Anonymous said,

    My first memory is of a bunch of little old ladies standing over me, talking to me, with bright lights behind them, and people talking all around. It’s just a flash of a memory. When I told my grandma about this, she told me that my mom had dumped me off at the local mall (in alb. n.m.) with a note in my cutest outfit. I was 19 months old.
    My grandma, having found that I was not in the car, made my mom turn around and pick me up. That was the first time(if this is correct) my mother tried to get rid of me.
    Sad thing is, it’s not the last time.

    eh, oh well. Life goes on. And now I’m here to make everyone miserable. LOL!!

    Sister Venus

  9. Inanna said,

    Everyone — Memories, I have found, can be our peace or our despair… I want to find peace. I remember what Queenie said, about remembering the good that came from even bad memories. Our memories matter because we place significance on them. Its deciding how much significance that gets us in trouble. I’ll be posting more on this subject later.

  10. Angi said,

    Gee, what’s wrong with me, I can’t remember anything before the age of 5, my favorite sister was in a car wreck, and when I found out, I fainted.

  11. Inanna said,

    Angi – Because it was significant to you. True, my first memory was at 3 of having my head sewn up but my next was at 4 or 5 and involved stepping on a black snake.

  12. Celti said,

    funny how a lot of first memories are of traumatic events. Mine was also when I was three. It was when my sister ripped my left arm out of the socket for me.

    I love the idea of the finite memories…purging the bad to make more room for the good.

    Inanna, you are brilliant. I love your posts.

  13. Vadergrrrl said,

    You are one amazing person. Your writing is so elagant and almost spooky (in a good way).

    Have a great weekend.


  14. Anonymous said,

    I’m not sure I understand the whole process, but “still feel the brick pressing against my back”, ooo la la, frikin’ sexy as hell.
    100 proof

  15. Anonymous said,

    I think it’s great that you linked Dastard. He has so much to say, and is a wonderful writer. If only I could write like him and get a link too. Wow, his stuff realy makes me think.
    Todd Frikin’ Vodka

  16. Anonymous said,


    remember I will listen when you need to talk.

    remember I will comfort you when you are hurting

    remember I will walk beside you when you feel alone.

    remember I will guide with you when you lose your way.

    remember I will hold you when you need comfort.

    remember I will stand by you when you need support.

    know you are a blessing to me.

    know you make me feel safe, secure, and loved.

    know I treasure each moment I spend with you.

    know I will forever be here for you.

    No matter the distance that may be between us, I am just a phone call, letter, email or im away, and if we should ever part, you will forever be close to me in my heart.

    -Sister Venus

  17. AJ said,

    Wow…It’s gonna be kinda tough to follow Sister Venus there, but Inanna, I guess I just want to again say that I appreciate your transparency and obvious genuineness, Inanna. A good memory can indeed be a curse, but I’ve learned that as you’ve said, it can also be just as great a blessing if you choose to learn from the bad, but focus on the good. Keep writing Inanna, we’ll all be here to smile along with you. 🙂

  18. Inanna said,

    Celti – Thank you so much for your ability to see brillance, just make sure you see it when you look in the mirror.

    Ahhh Vader — thanks for heads up and your support.

    Sister Venus – that was beautiful and right back atcha girl!!

    AJ — Thank you so much for being here. I admire your writing so much. I hope you try some prose and other types of poetry, I think you would be good at it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: