Wednesday, September 27, 2006

As I sat on the bus this morning I thought of the time I went cliff jumping in high school. I grew up about 40 minutes east of the Delaware Water Gap and kids would drive there on warm summer days and find tall things to jump off of. Our first stop was a rock quarry near the gap and there were a number of different heights to jump from. I am a real wuss so I only jumped the 25 ft cliff, and before I did it I got really scared cried softly yet idiotically to myself. It wasn't a sad cry but a weird, I'm scared, but smiling, and I got all the way up here and have to get down somehow wussy cry. Then this one girl a year younger than me who was really pretty and thin with soft features surprised us all. She found her way to the top of something spraypainted "The Jesus Jump" 69 ft high ... approximately. And then she jumped. None of the boys had the balls to do it. Only her - a girl who I never thought much of, especially since she was 1 year younger- something that made a big difference in high school days ... I thought about how cool she was for doing that.

So I thought of the girl that jumped the insanely high jump and remembered the other parts of the day, when we went down by the river rapids, and later on the drive home when my boyfriend tried to outrun the cops with his car on the highway ... a whole other story in itself.

When I woke up that morning I didn't realize it would be one of those days I would always remember. And it's hard to think that so many days wind up completely forgotten, their details blurred into vague opaque traces in the mind. I remember thinking about remembering in a play I did in college. There was a line about a teacup. The character said something like, "Take this teacup ... I have the whole thing here and I can probably remember having it, but will I remember the handle, the color, the curve of the cup? No, just bits and peices but not the whole ..." Or it was something like that. I don't remember.

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