There are so many things that I have forgotten lately and then there are things that stand out in my memory.
Things like; My first kiss. My first love and the first time I met my friends. I remember my dad sleeping on the sofa and my mom sitting beside him while I was lying down on the cold linoleum covered floor. I must have been three or four. I had a Bic pen in my hand and was very excited about it. I smelled the Bic and stared at the ink and the small bubble surfacing in the clear plastic tube. I had a newspaper before me. It was open and I had circled all the letter A's I could find. I knew it was the letter A but I did not know how to read. There were so many A's! It seemed as if every word needed an A. I soon gave up and started to look for other letters.
It must have been summer because the coolness of the linoleum felt refreshing. I had nothing on but my shorts and my hair was wild. I looked like one of those sponsored children on TV sans the flies circling around me.
I have an older brother and sister but I do not know where they are in this memory. In my memory everything is gray; my mother's housecoat, the sofas and the stained wallpaper. If I were able to travel through time and I stand in that room I could tell you that there was a sadness in the room but not for the little girl in the room, she was oblivious to those feelings and lost in her world of letters.
How do I know that? How do I know for sure that my mother and father were not happy if I was oblivious? They say, a child can see and feel things that others can't? But then why was I not concerned?

Another memory is a dark green telephone on the table in front of me in Ms. Blumsteins class. It is a huge and intimidating piece of equipment and when I pick it up the reciever is very heavy. It is kindergarten and we are learning how to use a phone. We are supposed to know our phone number and address. My teacher, Ms. Blumstein, had assigned the class to memorize both. Ms Blumstein was tall and skinny and wore a really tight bun. She wore long skirts and seemed nice but I was frightened of her anyway. She was going around the room and asking us to recite our address and dial our phone number. We had to announce our home number before dialing. I was so scared of forgetting when it was my turn so I kept saying the number under my breath so when I was called I would know it. It must have been traumatic for me because I still remember the number. It was 633-3966 but I don't remember what I wore yesterday. Too funny. Anyway, in my memory, it was difficult for me to dial the numbers my fingers kept slipping. It was very hard to pull the rotary dial with my small fingers. For a very long time I had a recurring dream that I needed to make a phone call. It was a life or death csituation but every time that I was almost done dialing, my finger slipped and I had to redial again and would become inpatient, frightened and anxious when the highest number took forever to dial. I would wait for the familiar click before dialing the next number. It seemed to take forever. Those dreams ended when touch tone was invented.
I remember snack time in kindergarten and assembly. I remember the smell of tempura paint. A smell I still find comforting today when I walk into a classroom. I remember Elmer's paste and how I had to unscrew the top which was connected to a wand and that wand was what you used to apply the paint on the surface you wished to adhere. I remember how tasty the paste looked but I never tasted it, unlike my classmate Barbara who ate paste and crayons. I also remember always feeling as if I was outside of my body when I was little as if I was on the outside looking in and I wonder why that is. Nothing much to this blog entry but my rambling about things I remember there are lots more memories but I am getting tired. It is twelve midnight and I should start trying to sleep and maybe if I close my eyes and relish in my memories I could have a restful slumber.