Kalico 2: Hypnotized & Naked in Hope Springs

Kalico: How Cute! The Train Wreck Continues

Kalico: Wednesday morning after volleyball practice

(Still In Third Floor Boys' Restroom)

You may remember that we left me sitting bare bottom on a toilet in the boys' restroom on the third floor of Eternal High School at mid-morning Wednesday right here in good old Hope Springs, Texas.

You may remember, but that doesn't mean you're supposed to remember, because nobody else is supposed to be reading this stuff.

Be that as it may, you may remember it, but that doesn't mean I "may" remember, or do remember, or whatever. It's almost as if I don't have permission to remember it, except when I'm working directly with it in my journal like this.

We took our leave of me in that awkward position in what seems only a few minutes ago while I reviewed in my head some events which transpired since Tuesday morning.

Actually, it was only a few minutes ago, but with the re-spooling of so much data in my head, it did seem much longer ago. I decided not to write so much about all that. If you disagree with my decision, that's just too bad. I'm writing this for me, not for anyone else. If you don't like it you can get yourself a life, or get yourself into someone else's journal. Or better still, write your own journal.

My head is much more clear now. The time I took to review it in my head during those moments in the restroom helped me approach the next few minutes with the confidence brought by greater mental clarity. This is not to say greater mental clarity made any difference as the disaster unfolded. Probably, it made it worse.

My head was more clear then, and is more clear now. But I can't promise that at any given moment I can remember much of it.

I do, however, have confidence that I've written enough details so I can deal with it later when I'm working on my science project. Or, maybe, when I'm going over my notes about Tuesday to explain to all my grandchildren how I met Grandpa Dave – as if our new relationship will stand the test of time. I may murder Dave because he took so much liberty when he handled my bottom Tuesday. I'm not exactly mad at him, but we need to have a serious talk about it. (Sorry about that, grandchildren.)

Since that time, when I was stuck in that toilet, I have experienced all of whatever happened Wednesday and I am about to write it here. Apparently I haven't murdered David, yet. I'm reasonably sure I would have remembered killing someone. Apply a simple scientific test. If David Moore became your grandfather, he was still alive at this point.

Yet so much of what I did Wednesday seems ghostly, as if it didn't really happen. Now, as I resume Wednesday's story, I realize I don't actually remember what happened Tuesday or Wednesday.

Uh, that needs more explanation.

What I mean is, I'm using that technique Mr. Coltwright taught me.

I spool back the memory of the day to whichever moment I'm discussing, and then I write it down as I re-experience it. It's sort of like having a video review system in my head. But while I'm doing that, it's like I'm living in the moment, and other moments are not accessible to me. So, unless some thought pops into my head, I can't remember at this exact moment I am writing much of Tuesday or the rest of Wednesday until I begin to write about that incident.

Anyone can do this kind of mental video review, without much special training. I already knew how to do something similar when I take tests at school. For academic tests, I simply visualize the textbook, mentally flip it over to the correct page and read the correct answer. It's not a perfect system, but it made a difference in my marks at school since about fourth grade.