The Lesbian Chronicles 11: Memories


I remember one sunny August day in Jackson's Point, the tar so wonderfully warm under my feet.

I remember coming home from school one cold winter morning thinking it was lunch when it was actually recess, and how shamed I felt when my mother explained my mistake.

I remember shivering in the rain for hours waiting for 'Phantasmagoria' to open their doors so I could be the first in Montréal to hear the new Bay City Rollers album.

I remember sitting in the lopsided chair at my grandmother's scarred wooden table waiting patiently for my favourite meal of all time, a peasant dish from the old country: whitefish, carrots, and potatoes.

I remember floating on a large red and blue striped raft in St. Tropez, totally zen'd out by the soft rocking motion of the sea.

I remember gently kissing the three dark brown freckles on Debbie Dankoff's nose.

I remember pulling the Ace of Pentacles during my daily tarot ritual then, eureka! finding a crinkled fifty dollar bill on the sidewalk.

I remember the smell of Jane's favourite plaid shirt, a heady combination of tobacco and Juicy Fruit.

I remember hiking up Mount Mansfield with my puppy Lucille, my right toe chafing at the tip of my worn out Blundstone thinking yes; it hurts but soon I will be there.


Inspired by the poet Joe Brainard.