Don’t know if I’m all about the subjects…
So, I took the day off work today, and spent the early morning (for some reason I still felt the need to get up at 7am) watching Back to the Future. It’s one of my favorite movies anyway, but it got vaulted to new status today because of something I’ve never noticed before.
When Doc uses the remote control to drive the time machine at the beginning of the movie, they put the the remote control in the foreground and really ask you to focus on it. I think this is because Robert Zemeckis doesn’t want you to look in the car and realize that there is a man in a dog suit behind the steering wheel. He’s seriously looking out thru the dog’s mouth. I rewound that a couple times.
Completely changing tack: I was thinking about a conversation from about a year ago that actually I wasn’t even part of. Someone, I forget who, had a conversation with a girl who had apparently dated an ex-boyfriend of mine after I’d dated him. My name came up in the conversation, and this girl remarks “Oh, Brie. She hated me for that!” Not only did I have no idea that this chick dated my ex, but I also had no idea who she was. Still don’t. And for the record, I can’t really imagine me hating a chick for dating a guy I wasn’t anymore. All my exes are fair game ladies (if you’re ready to take one for the team). Clearly, she was still thinking about this enough a year or two later to say it to my friend. I’m one of those people who feels guilty for stupid, foot-so-far-down-my-throat-it’s-threatening-to-come-out-my-ass moments years after the fact. It occurs to me that the people I feel so bad about offending may not remember the incident, or even me. That makes me feel good enough that I’ll probably go out an completely embarrass myself several times tonight.
The most random memories pop up in my head. Right now, I’m vividly recalling drinking a box of wine that cost approximately $4.00 with this guy Wayne in Canberra (Wayne and I spent most of our three day trip on the wrong side of that box of wine). We then proceeded out with a big group of people to a Canberra nightclub, located like most Canberra scenes in a mini-mall. Wayne got absolutely blind, and we got separated from the group, wandered into a variety of bars before finding our friends at the very same mini-mall club at which we’d started. Dancing ensued and some random guy started grinding on me, and I amused my group of friends by making faces he couldn’t see. I forget the kid’s name now, but he thought we were really hitting it off. We weren’t. Then we went outside and I performed an ill-advised cartwheel, ripping my skirt straight up the back. In case you wondering, I just realized I’m wearing said skirt (dutifully repaired along the seam), hence the memory apparently. Also, cartwheels in skirts, no matter what your inebriated and hopeful brain might tell you, are rarely a good idea.
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