Peter Pan told me it was easy to fly, I just had to think happy thoughts. I closed the window and went back to bed.

We are having a garage sale today.
I woke up at 4 this morning with about an hour or so of sleep to see Christmas lights all around our driveway and my mother saying "We look like a bunch of Mexicans."

Ohhhh, what to do? Some little boy just bought my neon pink slinky for a quarter. My heart is breaking.
And there goes my wooden rocking chair from when I was a baby, for a dollar. Ouch, right through the heart.
There is a beautiful little vase out there too. It has a peacock on it, and I'm praying no one takes it.

I'm such a pack-rat. I hold on to anything that holds any memories, even if it is trash to anyone else. I have about 3 rocks up in my room, and I can't let them go. Every card, every dried flower, anything that I can pick up and say "That was fun, I miss that." I have little scraps of paper and a box full of notes that Meghann and I passed freshman year. When we were still best friends.
Of course when I came home all of that is gone, currently rotting in some trash heap. But I guess it's for the best.
It's weird to think what makes a memory. What moments become memories.
There are some moments that take place and you can consciously think, I'll remember this forever. But then there are others that just oddly stand out in your mind.
For example! I can clearly remember watching Jon's hands when we were driving back from LA and wanting to play with them very badly. So the memory is just of his hands driving. And I can see it as clear as day! But that is how I will most likely remember the drive "home." But I like that, it makes me feel warm and comfortable.

God dammit. Someone just bought the vase with the peacock.