How can I remember?

[readingredhead]

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, [even if we don't speak often] please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE-UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE. When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised [or mortified] about what people don't actually remember about you.

I have to say, this will be amusing.  Seriously guys, whatever memories you like.  I know I'll have fun making them up for some of you.

In other news, I'm done with my English paper!  Yeah, it probably needs some work and I'll look it over again tomorrow morning before I print it and turn it in, but at the moment it looks like I'm good to go.  This is the first time I think I've ever written a paper this quickly.

Stay tuned next week for short stories about bad science fiction writers (but realistic, so they still are literary fiction) and discussions of how books are made, with a highlight performance from some Russian guys who want to take me away.

Comments

[alexandria-skye.livejournal.com]

oh my gosh, remember when you picked me up from school and we went to the beach? it was september, and i probably should've been doing homework, but it was warm and gorgeous, so we went to the beach. we played around by the water, and i ended up getting swamped by a wave when i tried to get at a pretty shell. it ended up being a rock, and i was soaking wet! i guess you either felt bad for me, or you thought it looked fun, but you ended up swimming in your clothes too.

that was fun.

[pippins-smile.livejournal.com]

I think my favorite memory-in-the-making was the summer you and I decided to take an art class. By nature, we're writers, but figured we'd extend our repertoire of artistic capabilities. However, what we took as a misspelling we were determined to correct ("Learn to be an Artest 101") turned out to be a class detailing how, exactly, to be as great a basketball player as Ron Artest from the Sacramento Kings. Even though it was a silly class and we still don't know impressionist from expressionist, I still say that our slam dunks are unparalleled. Gooooood times. :)

[spadleader88.livejournal.com]

So remember that time when we held open tryout for our perfect Mr Darcys? We had a long line of boys vying for our hearts, and we judged them on how witty and completely sexy they were in their audition. They had to be intelligent and irresistible to us, or else they were discarded. We were brutal to them. Oh, it was fun! In the end, you and I decided that boys were stupid and resorted to happily watching the A&E version of Pride and Prejudice because Colin Firth makes it worth every minute and nobody can quite compare to his Mr Darcy character.

[itsumi-actius.livejournal.com]

Do you remember that one time when we drove up to Chicago together? I nearly fell asleep at the wheel twice on the way, but we ended up not dying. On the second day of our little excursion, I swore that I saw a Harry Dresden look-alike and we spent three hours trying to follow him around the city before finally loosing him somewhere in a park. Lucky we didn’t get arrested for stalking, am I right?

[bluephoenix8807.livejournal.com]

'kay, so remember that one time when we found out that we had both just gotten really huge paychecks and decided to meet up in San Fran with all the other cool cats and spent a ton of money at the Borders in Union Square that you always talked about, and then had (hella) big dinners in Chinatown/Little Italy/Fisherman's Wharf and just schmoozed (Yiddish word meaning 'casually conversing') with everyone like the ol' days at MVHS, and then found out that IB was getting restored with the huge windfall in money from the state government?

Yeah, that was pretty awesome.

[transientrain.livejournal.com]

So, Candace, remember when we were roaming the streets of Venice together? There was a homeless man who asked us if we had spare change. We told him no, we didn't, and started to walk away, continuing on our way, when he called out, "Wait! Can you spin me a tale?"

Of course, sir, we said. That we can do.