Pardon me, did I know you?

     Odd day today. I woke up at 6:30 and did my part to limp around and get the kids ready for school. Simple enough. Normally, I will go back to bed. I couldn't relax this morning; I was feeling an odd mix of can't do crap/gotta do something and it was making me crazy. I mentally toiled over what I would have for breakfast and nothing sounded good. So of course, I just settled on bacon. Good, faithful bacon.
     So here's the thing...we are down to the emergency bacon. You don't know what this is? Okay, let me help you. Emergency bacon is a huge 3 lb package of "ends and pieces". It runs about 6 bucks, which is a good deal, but it's not pretty. I am still not sure which are the ends and which are the pieces. The whole thing is a crazy assortment of little bitty scraps and great, meaty slabs. So, Kyle fixed me some emergency bacon and I watched the most recent Harry Potter movie. It wasn't unpleasant, but I was still restless. I bummed around until I wanted to dig my own eye out...and this is where the adventure begins.

I am a pack-rat. Not a bad one. I will never star in an episode of hoarders. No cats will become squished and dehydrated under my piles of junk. I just keep a lot of sentimental stuff. I have birthday cards from when I turned 10. Going through this sort of thing became my project today, and a lot of good came out of it...but to be honest, I am FREAKED THE CRAP OUT!!! Kyle presented me with 2 boxes that my brother Roy (he's the one half of my friends have a crush on) stored for me for over a decade. I was thrilled at the thought of the treasures that would be found within. I had no idea that I would end my day confused out of my mind!
     As I went through my old belongings, I found things that I didn't remember. There were several journals that I had completely forgotten about and was not thrilled to find. Now, I am a Mormon woman, which means that I am supposed to LOVE my journals and hang on to them for future generations to enjoy and learn from. I don't think so. A lot of that stuff did nothing more than make me sad and remind me of the fact that I was a total ass-clown for much of my twenties. For real. I was forced to remember situations and people that were best left forgotten...BUT...that wasn't even the bad part. The part that had me wigged out was what I couldn't remember. For Instance...who in THE CRAP are Bob, Eric and Shane? I should know, because according to letters and journal entries, I dated each of them at some point. I also dated some dude named Jason and....crap...I already forget what the letter said the other dude's name was. Five dudes whom I have no recollection of! Isn't that creepy? Let me answer for you...it's hella-creepy! And the thing is...I can't doubt it, because it is clearly documented in my own writing...and the writing of others. Now, I realize it's not that big of a deal; it's not like I...ya know...did the huckle-buckle with any of them. I would have remembered that (especially since that was something that I didn't participate in at that time in my life), but I feel strange about not remembering. I mean, my memory is SO totally unjogged right now. I got nothin' and it makes me feel heartless. I am a lot of things, but dismissive of others is not one of them. I think. Okay...Kyle was the 6th guy I was engaged to, and I did indeed end the other 5 engagements, but in my defense, I shouldn't have been engaged to any of them in the first place. And I ALWAYS offered the ring back. Plus, I'm telling you that I was engaged 5 other times, which is proof that I totally remember all of those dudes.
     I told my sister Michele because I was hoping that she remembered any of them. She was no help. I called my mom (because Michele told me to) and all Mom could say was " No, I don't remember. It doesn't surprise me though. You've always been so cute and outgoing and men have always flocked to you." Which in my emotional state I read as " You would do something like that because you are brainless and silly and dated half of the planet". I have a problem with translation. Obviously. Kyle has had a great time with this, by the way. It's been a day of being teased about "poor Bob and Shane and Eric, and...ALL OF THOSE OTHERS GUYS". Dillweed. So there's my big trauma dance of the day. I know that it seems like a stupid thing to be flipped out over, but if I can't remember walks on the beach and dinner in L.A., what else am I forgetting? Ya know?