It's strange the things that we remember and the things that we don't remember. I can remember random things said in a conversation (verbatim and it bugs me when other people twist the words or don't recall it the same way - but I let it bug me inside my head and don't tell people, I know I'm crazy), but I can't remember about 90% of my classmates in high school. Worse, if I do remember them (only after seeing their face and knowing their name) I will wonder if we were friends or acquaintances (I well remember if we are enemies).
You're probably wondering where all of this is coming from. I am deep cleaning my room, and yes, I've taken a break to blog about it. I found my lock from grades 6-12, I don't know why I kept it, but I did. So I picked it up, said the combination in my head and then tested it out and walla, it opened. I remember my locker combination, but not all of my friends. Obviously we weren't close, and even more obviously my lock and I were. I mean, seven years together is quite the commitment...but eight years apart and still remember the combination is very impressive.
On that train of thought, I also found some old scrapbooks (yeah, I used to scrapbook and I probably still should, but I think having a digital camera pretty much cut off the desire to scrapbook (and let's add Facebook to that mix...and a blog, and shutterfly). Anyway, my first scrapbooks were mostly just letters and cards from friends and a few pictures scattered here and there. I'm looking for one picture in particular for Amber because she didn't know that I had gotten second degree burns on my feet. So I was looking for the picture from the physical therapy room in the hospital. The room that a few of my friends probably remember too as they went with me to the hospital and kept me company while my feet soaked (thank you again all of you fantastic friends).
I forgot where I was going with this and I really should get back to cleaning. But boy am I glad for those scrapbooks because I would have forgotten a lot of that stuff (like the letter Mur wrote me when I graduated college, what my niece looked like before she finally got some hair, and how much fun I actually had over the past couple of years).
P.S. you can bet I'll still be keeping that lock, I mean, if I remember the combo that's impressive, and a sign that we belong together.