I remember my dad would meticulously hang tinsel very straight and even on the Christmas tree each year.

I remember in 2000 having no qualms about lying in bed pretending to sleep while prospective renters were being shown the apartment on Dayton St. I would soon vacate, because the management company had refused to take into consideration that I (as well as Chris, who opted to go for walks during showings) worked nights and slept days.

I remember that most of my dresses were made by my mother until I got into high school.

I remember a mild form of hazing (that I was later grateful for) when I started work at Filterfresh in 2006, when my coworker Mat gave me a 20 second tutorial on how to operate the forklift and then told me to unload all the pallets of coffee off the waiting delivery truck, much to the annoyance of the impatient delivery driver who stood by watching my slow progress.

I remember how my dad looked in his golf togs with his cleated shoes and jaunty hats.

I remember once when Uncle Otto visited from Sacramento he bought steaks for everyone in our large family and Mom fixed them, and it was the one and only time we had steaks when I was growing up.

I remember Chris spitting neatly into the campfire near the headwaters of the Missouri River on our last night of camping in August 2005 as mosquitoes ignored him and devoured me.

I remember my friend Nena could bray like a donkey.

I remember playing with Hot Wheels cars with DP on the racetrack-shaped rug in the basement on Veil Of Tears.