Minor travels and memories

I went to Philadelphia on Friday to see The Decemberists.
At present, the concert is up on NPR.
It was a great show, ripe with Democratic-Party-slanted references. I commented afterward that it was certainly the best political rally that I've ever attended.

Saturday, I went to the metro-D.C. area to visit a friend that had just moved there. I hadn't seen her since graduation so she requested that I show her my France and Poland pictures. While telling her story after story of my adventures and comparing our trips abroad, I realized that I'm losing the lessons I learned in France when I'm not constantly reminding myself of them. So far the loss is just of the small things, like my confidence in wandering around alone. I find myself more afraid to do that in the United States than in countries where I can't speak the language.

Anyway, the rate at which memories are leaving is impressive. That being said, I recognized all of the pictures and could tell the tales. However, it's a bit unnerving that I had to think about what they were. The fact that the memories aren't all constantly there is what is bothersome. I did and learned so much this summer; I desperately don't want to forget these things. I suppose that this isn't something that I can fix. I guess that's why I kept a journal of my adventures (having learned this before about adventures).

Ah, the memory. It's such a strange phenomenon. It's a good thing I have several friends that research it and routinely discuss it with me.