update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2023-05-12 11:30:05 -07:00
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@ -52,6 +52,18 @@ He moved to Denver while I was up in Fort Collins, working on my bachelor's at C
It wasn't until he moved out of state --- this time off to Carlsbad, CA to get a degree in gemology --- that we actually sat down to have that conversation. I hadn't started dating JD yet. He and Kine had never dated. The us who we had become fell back into love, found some new way to exist together without driving each other nuts. Not yet, at least.
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"Memory is playing tricks on me" is a phrase I'm never sure how to parse.
Tricks? Is it tricking me? Is it fooling me? Is it hiding a smirk as I dig and dig to try and remember dates?
I don't quite remember when this all went down. I think we had a lot of these conversations back when I was in the house on Maple Street, the one that caught fire in my housemate's room, which means that must have happened before moving out in 2006. I remember living in the apartment on Remington Street and flying out Carlsbad to visit Andrew, to meet his friends Toni and Wish, which means that must have happened sometime before 2009, back before we moved to the house on Andrea Street.
Memory plays tricks on me, and perhaps that's just in us remembering through transpositions, interpositions, interpolations. That's me remembering those times with Kine and then those times we were dating in Colorado before remembering that, between those, he'd gone to school out in California.
And perhaps it's just the ways in which *this* is pushed out to make way for *that*. What year did I visit Carlsbad? I don't remember. I do, however, remember --- vividly --- Toni and Wish sleeping on the floor. I remember talking about all those people we knew together in #sanefurs and #nonfurs, IRC channels of snarky assholes two steps away from the Burned Furs movement.
[^background-remember]: The Book of Job remembers it through just the discourses. It remembers entire conversations, entire histories of friendship, through the lens of those two weeks Job spent in the cold fire pit, covered with ashes and sores. It remembers them all through discourses and speeches and prayers. Perhaps strangest of all, though, it remembers them disjoint and out of order.
Edward L. Greenstein discusses the transpositions, interpositions, and interpolations that go into the book of Job. Take, for instance, Job's first speech. "For many reasons," he writes, "the passage 4:12-21 should be read here, right after chapter 3, as the conclusion of Job's first speech." \parencite[16]{greenstein} In that speech, Job bemoans the horrors that have befallen him and his family, spelling out in poetic detail all of the ways he wishes he'd never been born.Where, in the traditional ordering, this would lead to Eliphaz's first speech, Greenstein instead places a description of a vision that had, in those orderings, been given to Eliphaz. He provides three reasons: in similar tales, it is the complainant who receives a vision; Job, rather than his friends, receives the theophany in this story; and both Job and Eliphaz himself refer to Job's vision in later chapters.