Oops that was dumb

Landing in Bozeman around noon was a bonus because the rest of the day was left to sleep, with a lethargic prelude of unpacking my bags. It wasn't until Dave tells me, "So we're having people over for turkey around six-thirty, seven, or so." Fantastic, a home cooked meal considerably more authentic than Pasta-Roni! Wait, shit, there's already a ton on my plate. I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't unpacked! That's what I think.

"Sweet," is what I say.

"There'll probably be around ten people here. We're feasting tonight!" I understand. Us students must gather and feed and energize before the impending school semester. Our friends remind me of a cross-country ski team. Back home they have spaghetti feeds one or two nights before big races.

I'm back home now. Now The Last Frontier quite literally is the last, it has to be in the back of my memory. Alaska was my home, but you're out of there for good this time and you'll get to feast with an emphatic portion of what you have here in Montana.

Just had to get that out of my system. It reminds me of my malfunky memory. If I get anxious in any way then my memory loses it's edge. I'm not as sharp, dazed I suppose. I can't wrap my head around the matter.

Which brings me to my point.

Around one or two in the afternoon I was unpacking my bags which seemed larger than when I packed them up last in this apartment. Possibly, what I'll call, the Christmas-accumulation Effect was, well if I may reiterate, in effect; Consumerism will get'cha. Anyways, I was given a pair of gloves over the holiday which I thought would come in handy that evening, but when I was unpacking I set them down instinctively and five minutes later I couldn't even remember which pile I put them in. Five minutes, now come on Spencer you just had them!

I gave up, I found another pair but was disappointed that I couldn't break in the new mitts. We had our turkey dinner and enjoyed the company all that evening until the group vacated the our apartment. That was Sunday. Then--as Keith Urban says--"days go by."

Tonight, a Wednesday, I've found a four-day old memory. I found the gloves, right where I would've put them! There's several places I could've put them but I didn't think about it. I went with instinct and found the gloves. My instincts must conflict my anxieties, and conquer them in due time...hah, oops.

Three-to-four days forgotten? That's a pretty bad memory.

What about five-to-six months? Let's see what we come up with. I read Moonwalking with Einstein over the summer and memorized the 'to-do list' in the middle part of the text. I memorized it in less then twenty minutes after reading it using the technique Joshua Foer specifies. Yet, that was July or August. I get the feeling like those twelve-to-fourteen items aren't going to found to be stuck, but let's see what happens. A note, I'm buying the book tomorrow so I can't reference the list, so this is just for fun.

Foer's To-Do List (Or: Roughly what I remember from my mental images)

-cat suits

-megaphone

-something large in the driveway

-cottage cheese

-salmon

-elk sausage

-paul newman

-computer

Oh, rough. What's interesting is that I created that journey in an unfamiliar house (a house that our family toured in Houston at the beginning of the summer). I believe Foer indicates that you should know the 'places' or 'houses' where you place your memories rather well. I think that might be why I forgot the list's 'journey' or memory palace or narrative or what-have-you so easily, let alone the five minutes with those gloves, or three days, or was it four.

I'll try to recreate the house when I see the list again.