Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Forgetting (to Bring Home the Bacon)

I have a few methods, or non-methods, of shopping. Like most people, if I know precisely what I need and am not in the mood to browse, I'll head straight for whatever it is, grab it,  and get out. Surprisingly enough, this also applies to clothing (I know, hard to believe). Granted, I'm pretty good at dilly-dallying to no end in a retail store, but I really am quite capable of grabbing what I need, maybe trying it on, then heading to the checkout.

For example, my roommie and I wanted to hit Old Navy for the cardigan sale on Saturday, and even though  the Sephora was having a super-secret-preview day, I didn't buy any makeup; and at Old Navy, I only shopped cardigans for teaching (and refrained from a friggin' Chicago Bears one).

And I'm good at finding what I need in a desperate search- like a few years ago, when I was trying to find an outfit for my first real date (as in I met a guy, he asked for my info, and we went out a few days later kinda thing), I couldn't find anything at all the stores the gals I was with were dragging me to (because, well, uh, they were all petite ladies, and I'm, uh, not); when they finally let me go to the store I wanted after over two hours, it took me less than twenty minutes to find an entire ensemble, complete with earrings and bracelets, too. 


But groceries are another story. My roommate and I have this bad habit of going back and forth in the grocery store together- I don't think there has been a single food trip taken  together where we didn't have to backtrack at least once. Usually it's closer to four or five. I swear, I should start tallying it every time we shop and maybe we can set personal records or something together. 


I'll have you know, we do this even when we bring lists. We're awesome.

My mom is great at getting groceries, a total pro. She puts the stuff on the list in accordance with  the layout of the store. Granted, she doesn't do aisle numbers, but she doesn't really need to, she puts everything in the right order on the paper and gradually you see it getting crossed off if you peek over her shoulder. And this  is great, because  it means that very little impulse buying takes place- she gets everything on the list, maaaaaybe one or two extra things, and that's it. If only I were as awesome as that.

I've tried doing this before, but the grocery stores my roommie and I prefer are always changing  their layout, so what the frak? The only  things I can rely on are the produce and the dairy. Even the meat sections   have been shifting around (like I swear, the fish and bovine products swapped at our Payless last week).

Now, I could give a long, dry rant about how this is capitalism at work, a strategic ploy on the part of the evilgreedyomnipotent grocery store owners to prevent people like my mom from winning out. Because that's pretty easy to... buy.


Eh?


You right now.
Oh, fine.

So today, I went shopping for the first time whilst driving my new car (aaaw yeeeeeeuh, totally baller*), and I did another thing I'm pretty terrible/good at: I left one of the bags behind. 


My only excuse is I was distracted by the prospect of driving my own car again, but I know the reality is I'm just a pragmatically terrible shopper. I could have probably put a lot more down on my car if I had been able to put the money lost to forgotten bags toward the purchase. And I usually feel exceptionally stupid and guilty when it's at the grocery store, because usually they chase me down in the parking lot, and 2/3 of the time when that happens,  it's some adorable and sweet old dude that looks like he's about to have a heart attack because I forgot my gorram refried beans. 


Also, I forgot to get bacon today, and I had plans to experiment with bacon, pasta, and cheese. And I also forgot gifts for some parties I'm going to this weekend.

I guess I'm saying all this because it makes me wonder. In the future, what things will I forget and not be able to go back for? Lotion is one thing; what if I forget someone I took with me? What if I do something drastic like forget a friggin' child? I've had nightmares where I left River at the apartment by accident before and come home to find her barely alive. I'd never forgive myself if something  happened to her.

And there are things I've forgotten, like anybody else- birthdays, deadlines, phone numbers. But why is it we can forget to do things like put the friggin' coffee filter in the pot before pouring the grounds (true story), and  why is it so easy to forget the good times, when we can't really force ourselves to forget the bad things? I mean, sure, we may "suppress" memories, but that's never a conscious thing- if there's something we want to forget, any conscious effort fails.


I wish I could forget some of the things that have happened  to me before. I have nightmares about forgetting River, but I have nightmares about my past, too. But in different ways, like they're sequels- dudes  that have rejected me are doing it again after first telling me they made a mistake before, dudes that have assaulted me are around and laughing and flirting with me as if it ain't no thang, family members  I'm on the outs with are cussing me out, but over something stupid like I left the Nintendo (NES) open (something I NEVER DID FOR THE RECORD). 

But do I really want to forget? Like I've said before, everything I've been through has made me who I am today. I'm not perfect, but nobody is. I'm a damn good person, at least. 

In the disability course I'm taking  online right now, there was a whole segment on "fixing" disability, and what I liked about it was that not every person with a disability interviewed for the segment said they wouldn't take a magic pill  to get rid of their disability- a lot of them, most of them, wouldn't, but two said no, I'd rather not have this thing. And this reminded me that we all grieve and cope and... deal... differently. And while I'd never change my siblings and remove their disabilities (which some people just can't fathom), I'd support them if a "cure" somehow came up and they wanted to go for it- as long as they could at least keep their memories.

Because I think our memories of our past are what shape our character in the present. How we remember, what we do with and because of those memories. It's not the thins themselves, it's what we do with them. So getting rid of the disability wouldn't change the person in the metaphysical sense. What would cause the change is how they reacted to not having a disability any longer. But
 blotting out or getting rid of experiences themselves, that's a little different. While I wouldn't want my siblings to experience any more of the hardships they've encountered, I wouldn't extract ones they've had already. That may sound amoral or sick, but those experiences have made them wonderful people that bring more joy to me and anyone else they know than the grief their disabilities may have caused. 

And so that's why I guess I don't really want to forget. It'd be nice if I could sleep, but when I'm awake, my past makes me a kind, loving person. 

I guess the cool thing is I can swing by the store again tomorrow at my own volition and get the stuff I forgot. And going back to the store is kind of like making the choice to be a good person and try to help people.  I can't change my past, and I can't make myself remember stuff like bacon any better. But I can shape my future, and I see a very delicious future ahead. It looks something like  this:




*I was FB chatting with a friend earlier tonight and tried using that word. I spelled it wrong. For a Native American chick, I'm so gorram white...

1 comment:

  1. Why you try taking your receipt and telling customer service they forgot to give you your bag? It wouldn't hurt to try!

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