R.E.F.

Remember. Experience. Forget.

About one week ago, while on the subway, I sat next to a crotchety old woman with big glasses and a babushka-esque (sp?) face. Babush was reading a slightly crinkled magazine…probably one of those cheap, off-the-rack, corner stand kind of magazines. In a sudden rush of sickening curiosity, I leaned in and started to read. I'm sure that I sound like a huge creep right about now, but I have to redeem myself. The little old lady looked so intrigued in what she was reading. I had to know what that article said! Besides, up until that point, I had never been that oily subway passenger who sneaked peeks at what people were reading on the subway, nor had I ever stared at ipod screens to see what was on shuffle, nor had I ever peered over into open purses to see what was lurking inside. You get the point.

Anyways, I had a looksy and read an article entitled "R.E.F. - Moving On and Feeling Good." The article explains that by using three simple steps - Remembering, Experiencing, and Forgetting - one could lead a healthy, pain free life. So, in order to achieve a quasi secure sense of self and confidence, one must remember a painful or embarrassing situation they were in, "experience" all the details of the moment - scents smelled, sights seen, emotions emotioned - and then simply forget what had happened. Simple, no? Sounds like a crock of over salted freedom fries, right?

Recently I had been having these terribly annoying flashbacks. I kept on recalling silly things that had happened to me within the past year. Things that made me want to hide in the nearest trash bin. Things that made me tingle nervously inside. The memories were so vivid that I could feel my neck and face warm up and my hands twitch. Being the brilliant child that I am, I decided to employ the methods described in Babush's magazine. I remembered the moments, evoked every emotion, etc at once (and almost passed out because of sensory overload), and tried to forget the memories all together. But putting these reflections in the overstuffed recycle bin of my mind proved to be a difficult task. How can anyone just let something that vivid go? And then it dawned on me. Those moments were only discomforting because of other people's reactions at the “event.” Those recollections had remained irksome because I had foolishly convinced myself that everyone had stored them in their minds as key indicators of who I was as a person. Oh, hark truth and reason! Behold the reality: no one fucking cares! No one remembers those moments! They were stupid blips in time. I racked my brain, (sadistically) trying to convince myself otherwise, but I failed. I couldn’t remember anything small or uncomfortable that my peers had done. Why would they have remembered anything that had happened to me? HA! Am I really that self concerned.

Moral of the story: R.E.F is bullocks and I take myself WAY too seriously.

P.S. The whole Babush intro was made up. But the article, or the idea behind it, is real. I read it somewhere...I just don't remember where.