Thanks For The Memories

It's funny the things memories can be attached to. Today it was almost like going back in time to when I lived in NSW, with all the old songs and photos I've heard/seen today.

It all started in the car ride to school this morning. I love the car ride to school; dad and I make a game out of listening to the radio. Every morning, we get in dad's car, turn on the radio and turn it to Mix FM. There's a mix of the new stuff like Bruno Mars, Katy Perry and P!nk; as well as older stuff like ACDC, Queen, INXS, etc. Dad and I basically compete to say the name of the song and the artist who sings it. I love that game. Like Bryan Adams says in the song 'Summer Of '69'- "These are the best days of my life."

Anyway, just before we got to my school, a song came on that brang back weeks worth of memories- Bad Case of Loving You (Doctor, Doctor) by Robert Palmer. Yes, memories can definitely be attached to songs. Ever since I was four, I have loved to dance. Starting then until I was eight and moved to Queensland, I took dancing lessons. Every year, we would put on a concert. Every class would do a dance to one song. Doctor, Doctor was mine one year. I still have the costume for it too- white dress with a big sequined + on it; and a matching head piece. I still know the words to that song, and I think I have the dance on DVD.

Then there were all the comments on my photos on Facebook. They remember things that trigger some of your memories, and you just reminisce about everything. I remember all the McDonald's parties I went to; my sixth birthday party with a big jumping castle; the distinctive hats of preschool- my hat was navy blue with a giant yellow flower on the top of it and one of my friends had a hat that was completely rainbow sequins. Then there was the good ol' days before Wii- Eye Toy... so many memories, all in different years, just from one photo when we were eight.

Then there was the latest incident- I don't think this has ever happened before; not to anyone I know anyway- a gecko fell from my ceiling and landed on me. Yes, that really did happen. I went out to feed my dog, Rookie, and out of nowhere a gecko falls onto my hand. It shocked me so I screamed- my neighbour could hear me. They live two houses down. Technically, they're not my neighbours, but they're close enough.

Now, I've never had a gecko land on me before tonight, but it still triggers memories. Of the time we spent on the beach when I was a little kid. It took hours and hours to get to the beach from where I used to live, so it was a treat- even if it was a very long car trip. We'd have Macca's in the car on the way and go straight to bed when we got to my grandparent's beach house. The next day, and for the whole time we stayed there, we'd go to the beach.

The connection I have with the gecko relates to one visit in particular: we went to the beach, as we always did. It was pretty quiet. We decided to bury dad in the sand, just for fun. So mum, my sisters and I were all picking up handfuls of wet sand and throwing them onto dad's back. I picked up and handful and, just as I got back to dad, something jumped out of my hand. It was a prawn. Now, I don't like seafood and I'd never, ever seen a live prawn before (or since, for that matter) so it spooked me a fair bit. Needless to say, everyone but me was amused.

And then there was the car trip... we went to go pick up Macca's one night- me, dad and the girls. As I got in the car, I felt something wet on my arm. I thought nothing of it, because it was raining. We drove down the street, and I felt it again.

'Hey, dad?'

'Yeah?'

'Is the car leaking?'

'No; it shouldn't be, it's a new car.'

We started listening to Bohemian Rhapsody then and I completely forgot about it. Then I felt it for the third time, and I let out a high pitched scream.

'Stop being silly!'

'I'm not; I felt something and I don't know what it was...'

Well, I definitely wasn't being silly, because the car then swerved with dad's yell. He felt it too. We pulled over the car and sitting on dad's leg was...

A frog. I love frogs. We get a fair few at our place- brown stripeys and big, bright green treefrogs. But I'd never touched one. I was worried it might've burnt its skin (to touch/pick up a frog your hands are supposed to be wet; the acid in human skin burns them) but it appeared fine; it sat on dad's leg the whole drive.

Those are just some of the memories I have. I recall plenty more, and I'll have a gazillion more in the future. Some of them are and will be beautiful, others I'll wish I could forget. But these ones, I'll treasure forever, and I'm glad I have them. What are some of your favourite memories?

Sayonara, fellow ninjas! xoxo