Tuesday, February 2, 2010


Today I read on the interweb that Andrew Lloyd Webber is completely cancer free. It's always a joy to discover that one of your favorite writers isn't terminally ill. Anyway, ever since his name came across my screen I have had his song "Memory" stuck in my head. That song brings me back to the magically awkward days of 7th grade. That year was the only year that I used my voice for a school club. I was part of my middle school's noble choir 'Guys & Dolls', complete with performances in habbit like skirts paired with blue sequence mumu like tops. To top it off the "men" in the group had the privilege of wearing black shirts with the same blue sequence in vest form and a smashing red bow tie. Oh what a great group we were.

While in my psychology class today my professor couldn't help but provoke the lyrics to "Memory" into my head as she lectured about memory. Now normally in this class everyone can relate to the subject matter , we all have a personality, emotions, experiences, and senses; it's very easy to follow along and understand on a personal level. But today in class I found myself lost and doubting what she had to say. Today it seemed as if she was trying to teach me that the sky is not blue, that it is in fact a lovely shade of magenta.

She explained that the sensory experiences that don't make it to our long term memory, also called short term memory, is forgotten within 2-3 seconds. Makes sense, right? Yeah. But she also said that our dreams are part of our short term memory, and that the only way we could remember them is if we pull a Rachel Berry and wake up with enough energy and motivation to write them down within 20-30 seconds of waking up.
This baffles me. I remember all of my dreams. It has been quite sometime since I slept dreamlessly. The dreams I have absorb me and I can recall upon any of them and tell you in detail what happened. Now I may miss some points or forget a few things, but generally speaking I remember my dreams for at least a few days.

After hearing this I was beginning to wonder if I just have a really unusual sleep habit, or if maybe my hipocampus is peculiarly strong.

So then she tells us about Infantile/Child Amnesia, which is why adults can not remember most of their childhood. It is also apparently why people can not remember anything before the age of 3. What? What is this? 3! People can't remember anything prior to the age of 3?
This is when I really began to wonder if I had an obscure memory.
I remember vividly trying to climb over to the big pool from the adjoined hot tub/ baby pool when we lived in California. It was my goal, my journey, my sense of purpose. I remember the divot in the wall which was lower that I could climb over. That lower level would be my parents demise. I knew that if I could just get over that wall I could be with everyone else and have the entire pool to swim in. We moved to Ohio when I was one something. All of that happened when I was only a year and some old and I remember it perfectly.
I could also recall to you a very green ride through "It's a Small World After All" during one of the family's trips to Disney Land when we lived out in Cali.

Then it all started to click. The memories of my dearest cousin telling me "Heather, sometimes I think you remember things that never actually happened," when I know they did. The unnatural amount of dreams that stick with me forever. The memories from when I was a year old. It all started to make some sense, and I have come to a conclusion. I have an oddly strong memory.

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