mnvnjnsn's Diary

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I got no memory of anything

I was talking to Paul about my movie from yesterday's entry, and we decided it could also be a documentary: Two marching band students...and three cats...picked to live in a house...where the cats stop being nice...and start being REAL. The Real World - Crazy Cat Lady House. This summer on MTV3.

The sheltered white-bread boy, the black playa and the bitchy princess lay about after a long day at their job as Marketing VPs for MTV.

My memory is getting worse. I am not only beginning to view most of the events in my life through a rosy and soft-focus, vaseline-heavy lens ("That guy? From the bar? Who drove the El Camino? You remember, the one who made me go to Safeway the next morning to get him milk to go with the breakfast he had me make for him? Yeah, he wasn't so bad."). I'm also losing most of my short-term memory.

I got halfway to work this morning, then turned back for home because I couldn't remember closing the garage door. And I couldn't recall two of the phrases I just used in that last paragraph.

Peter Gabriel wrote 'I Don't Remember' when he was thirty. That's another one to put on my movie soundtrack.

And the garage door? Was closed.

2:35 p.m. - 2003-07-29


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