WITH A KNICK KNACK PADDY WHACK

In an attempt to make our house look more like—well—a house, my sister and I agreed to weed out all the excesses. Our inadequacy to let go of trivial possessions is most likely hereditary. I've been told that it's almost impossible to find a space to walk on in my 80-year-old grandmother's room. On the floor are countless boxes of shoes, plates, silverware and perhaps pterodactyls, I presume.

This is not to say that I could throw all these mementos away without even flinching. I did find some notable pieces—notable because I could still recall the stories they represented. Nostalgia is bittersweet; it reminds me of how things haven't changed when I wish they did, and how things have changed when I wish they didn't.

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We had chocolate shakes that with marshmallows (yuck, I know). We barely knew each other then. That dire situation forced us to have late dinner. That one time. We haven't eaten anything the entire day, except pride. After everything was done, we had a gluttonous dinner. Just right before midnight. And then we we were inseparable. Until one had to leave. To 11:53. A paper cocktail umbrella.

The one I got had cheese on it. We spent an afternoon buying materials. And painting the cups. And filling the bottom with stones and crumpled paper. And filling the cups with small styrofoam balls. And pulverizing the chalk. And drizzling glue and chalk bits on top. And coming up with the most insane possible award categories. To great laughs. A styrofoam bucket of popcorn. 

It was so pretty, I loved it. A classmate gave it to you. But I loved it so much, you wrapped it up and gave it to me. For my birthday. I didn't even know if I should use it or not. Because it was so pretty and delicate I might rip it apart. I did use it a couple of times. And then I kept it in my drawer because the rip was getting bigger. To surprises. A Japanese paper fan.

The ride then was cheaper. I was a student. I don't know if I remember it right. What the hell. The seats looked like wooden park benches, and the wind slapped our faces to tomorrow. There was a late show. We didn't like waiting. So we had to ride that wheeling tetanus. On the way home, you made me laugh. A helluva lot. We said goodnight. You still make me laugh. To stunted watchamacallit. A bus ticket. 

It was one of those sudden dinners. I was raving about this restaurant. We had appetizers with cheese. We had a main course with cheese. We had dessert with cheese. I was ready to fart. It was either the cheese or the laughing gas. It was the 20th—my pay day. You found that out. So you egged me that I should treat you. I did. To spontaneous reunions. A receipt from that restaurant.