Pink lace memories

Yesterday, on my way back home right after my first Memoir writing class I found myself very distracted.
I barely paid attention to the lights of Time square shining in front of me ( for someone who is living in New York only for two weeks they still are a surprising view).

I couldn’t stop thinking about the writing prompt our teacher Nina gave us to break the ice: your first day at school. Basically I had to go back with my mind until my very first day at kindergarten and trying to remember how I was feeling and what I was thinking while I was still holding my mother’s hand, waiting to start my endless education with other hundreds of kids that after those years I would never see again.

You’ll say: “easy!” and I would probably agree except for the fact that the school theme is something I’m trying to avoid like the plague, since forever.

Let’s go back to the fact: I was in a class with other seven people and I was thinking and thinking about the past and the only image, coming up on my mind, was me, wearing a pink lace dress. I should probably ask to my mum, but I’m pretty sure that this never happened.

Memory knows how to be tricky and I’m also certain that my obsession for the lace came with the age.

Anyway, as I said, I was stuck with my memories in the middle of nowhere when suddenly I found something: when I was a child I used to suck my thumb and this is what I was probably doing when I jumped into my very first school class. I remember the teacher telling me that if I wanted to keep going with that bad habit, I couldn’t have played with any toys because would have been nasty for the other kids.

I don’t remember If I cried, but I’m sure that, that day, has been the one in which I started eating my nails.
(I’ve eaten my nails for twenty years, but this is another story)

As you can see, synthesis is not really my talent. I wanted to do just a little introduction and I ended up telling the story of my life ( I blame my Italian blood for this, we can’t hold back our self from talking).

However I wanted to share with you all my enthusiasm about this course; I have never done nothing like this before and a part of me is now really scared about what else I could find out about myself, but in the end I think this is exactly what the memoir is about: get lost and then, find yourself again.

As Whitman would say: ” I contain multitudes”.  As all of you.



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