Sunday, May 27, 2007
Memory Lane
I'm spending the long weekend with my parents in Quincy, lying around on the deck and reading and avoiding hot spots like the Wal-Mart where I might be seen by people I went to high school with. It's pretty great, actually. I'm playing my way through the James Bastien piano books for children (I only got as far as the third grade book, which seems to accurately approximate my current skill level) and raiding my parents' library for lesser known classics of Russian literature (many of which amuse me by having cost sixty-five cents when initially purchased). Tonight we're going to try the new Thai restaurant, Quincy's first. Excitement is running high.
Of course, coming back here always brings to mind many strange and hilarious memories, such as the fact that I used to think it was really cool to skip study hall to go eat breakfast at Burger King with my friends, and that I once got in trouble for staying our really late the night before the SATs, trouble that I escaped by telling my parents that I had fallen asleep in the hallway at school. I also recalled today that I once got busted by the parking lot attendant at the high school for driving over a grass embankment in my '95 Neon at the prompting of Kathy Yu, who "just wanted to see what this baby can do." Although I was too dumb to give the attendant a fake name, he ended up misspelling my real name so tragically that nothing ever came of it.
Looking back, it really is a wonder that I've lived to be 29 at all. The good news is that I do seem to be getting at least marginally smarter.
I'm spending the long weekend with my parents in Quincy, lying around on the deck and reading and avoiding hot spots like the Wal-Mart where I might be seen by people I went to high school with. It's pretty great, actually. I'm playing my way through the James Bastien piano books for children (I only got as far as the third grade book, which seems to accurately approximate my current skill level) and raiding my parents' library for lesser known classics of Russian literature (many of which amuse me by having cost sixty-five cents when initially purchased). Tonight we're going to try the new Thai restaurant, Quincy's first. Excitement is running high.
Of course, coming back here always brings to mind many strange and hilarious memories, such as the fact that I used to think it was really cool to skip study hall to go eat breakfast at Burger King with my friends, and that I once got in trouble for staying our really late the night before the SATs, trouble that I escaped by telling my parents that I had fallen asleep in the hallway at school. I also recalled today that I once got busted by the parking lot attendant at the high school for driving over a grass embankment in my '95 Neon at the prompting of Kathy Yu, who "just wanted to see what this baby can do." Although I was too dumb to give the attendant a fake name, he ended up misspelling my real name so tragically that nothing ever came of it.
Looking back, it really is a wonder that I've lived to be 29 at all. The good news is that I do seem to be getting at least marginally smarter.
