I Will Remember You

I had a lot of time to think at dinner last night, mostly because it was too loud in Moulton for me to figure out anything that was happening at our double table. (Seriously, does anyone over 20 eat dinner at Moulton unless they have to? The place swims with freshmen.) I sat in the corner and spent much of the night asking Vannie to my left what was going on and why everyone was laughing. She'd offer one-word answers then turn to ask Mac, to her left, for more details. By the time everything got passed down, the conversation would have moved far, far beyond me. I thought a lot about what we choose to remember and forget about ourselves and what others remember of us. Gak had forgotten that I once dreamt that his facebook profile revealed that he was interested in Men. I had forgotten that Bird Man Ecologist Extraordinaire had once told me that looking at frogs mate would "make you wish you were a frog". Mac had forgotten that he had promised Julie that he'd earn A's for both of them in BSketch's class by giving up a little of himself (ok, I tried really hard to think of a nicer way to say 'sleep with the professor' but failed. Suggestions?). It's strange what stories survive. And how they shape what others think of us.