Childhood Memories

Looking back at my recent posts it appears I haven't been "covering the globe" lately. The recent trip to England notwithstanding, I have felt largely unqualified to remark upon current events; been preoccupied with my cooking blog; and have been diligently perfecting the Great American Nap. It's exhausting. I mean to get back into the swing of things - the world never stops moving, history marches on, etc. - but first allow me some self-indulgence.

I enjoy, love, reading personal narratives and humor writing, especially when they are combined, such as the works of David Sedaris and Bill Bryson. I become lost in their prose and experiences and memories, such deep memories that leave me awed. How can these men remember (or reconstruct) conversations from when they were five? Or recall in vivid detail the spoon their mothers used to stir a soup on the evening of November 14, 1962? I lived through the entire decade of the 1980s, during which my mother (so she told me) spent hours putting together 3-course Chinese meals, but I don't remember even eating in the 80s. I don't think my brain began actively absorbing the world around it until I hit puberty. Growing into womanhood seems an appropriate time to become cognizant of the dangers and wonders surrounding you, but I can't help feeling that I've missed out on some important details. The only thing I can remember for certain is that I spent a lot of time daydreaming (pursuing the Great American Nap is, apparently, a life-long endeavor.)

Wait, I'm exaggerating: I do remember eating, once. For my fifth birthday I had a party at McDonald's and part of my meal was a hamburger with miniscule bits of onion on the patty. I refused to eat it, due to the belief that onions would either kill me or simply burn through my stomach and leave a hole in my torso, but my mother insisted that I take a few bites or the party would be over. I suppose three bites of a McDonald's hamburger is enough to get you through a decade. Or at least the 80s.