nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky

Isn't it funny how you remember seemingly insignificant events for a much longer time than you realize? For example, when my little sister turned eight, she got a card that had mice dressed as court jesters on the front; the inside said, "Let the merriment commence! Happy birthday!" Let the merriment commence! The next time I walk into an eight-year-old's birthday party, carrying two cases of High Life (the champagne of beers), that's the first thing I'm going to say. Or in fifth grade, when Tiffany Young asked me if I knew who Sisqo, of "Thong Song" fame, was. I said I didn't, and I don't think I've ever felt so white in my life. I had a dream where I broke my arm and had to get a purple cast, because that's all they had left. What does that mean? That I have no choice but to become an advocate for gay rights? Then again, I also had a dream where there was an acapella group called "Hot Cheese" performing "My Girl" in the dining hall of Hogwarts. I don't exactly care for people who feel the need to chronicle their dreams in any sort of media, be through a textbox or sign language or Morse code. Morse code has the illest dotz and dashez.