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Not a Memoir

March 30th, 2017 · 6 Comments · Daily

I’ve been keeping a written journal of college/high school/childhood memory blurbs, and this morning I thought it might be fun to occasionally share some of those entries over here. (To the people in my past who are now nervous: I’ll be using gender specific pronouns, but never names.) Let me know if you like these or don’t like these and I’ll probably keep putting them up anyway because this is MY house.

Here goes.

It was hot and it was humid but most importantly, it was dark. We were walking from a friend’s house back to my dormitory when she suggested that we take off our shirts and walk the remaining few blocks in just our bras and jeans. The streetlights were fairly dim and we hadn’t seen a car in several minutes, so off went the shirts. Less than five minutes later, a car pulled up and stopped when it reached us. It was a carload of friends from the band and we carried on a ten minute conversation during which no one mentioned that we were walking the streets with our shirts in our hands.

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6 responses so far ↓

  • 1 MJ Martin // Mar 30, 2017 at 7:54 pm

    Is that all for tonight.

  • 2 Martha // Mar 31, 2017 at 8:00 am

    It’s like one of those “I dreamed I was in my underwear” dreams without the sudden realization and mortification!

  • 3 Cindy // Mar 31, 2017 at 3:32 pm

    I love this so much.

  • 4 pharmgirl // Mar 31, 2017 at 4:19 pm

    Ever? They never mentioned it – ever?
    I am so grateful that smart phones &/or the internet did not exist in the 80’s.

  • 5 Carroll McNeill // Mar 31, 2017 at 8:04 pm

    Wahhhh. In a dream world that would have been a cop car and you’d have been busted for something like indecent exposure, or streetwalking. Can’t decide whether I’m disappointed, or thrilled by this one. Keep ’em coming!

  • 6 Grammy // Mar 31, 2017 at 8:56 pm

    I love this. The story and that you’re telling it.