it's friday, it's fireworks and remember remember

Remember telling me "don't scream, and let go of the handles, it's way more funner!"? It's funny how that sort of sums up us. Remember snorting rainbow dust? Remember seriously discussing which of each others' body parts we'd prefer to have when we merged as one person? Remember those hours over phones and msn discussing The Story? Remember how we used to be so emo it hurt? Remember our despair that Billie Joe was 40-something and married? Remember oreo-milkshake? Remember getting drunk on cococabana and lying on our backs watching the stars fall from the sky?

Remember the uncool cool area? Remember the spongy grass at the short-cut to the bakeshop, and the pound you lost there that seemed to be absorbed by the ground? Remember when Mr Hayward took us for tea at Hoswick Visitor's Centre? Remember when you asked me to come rowing, but I forgot and you appeared at my door and I was still in my pajamas? I'm still proud of how fast I managed to change into daywear. Remember how scared we were of Mr Lindsay? Remember how he told us his life-story in Japan, to us only and for no real reason other than to talk about his favourite subject (himself)? Remember life is like soy-sauce, love is like rice?

Remember activity Wednesday and Newspaper? I was so shy, and I accidentally drew on your jeans, and you just laughed. Remember town days, and sitting on your knee in the Havly, and getting kicked out of the Havly for being "too loud"? I'm sure you're tiring of such a phrase, but I could listen to you all day at whatever volume you choose. Remember Thursday Period Four? Remember all those discussions about teachers and boys and boy wizards and time-travellers? Remember sitting on a rock by the sea at 1AM drinking lambrini and discussing my boy troubles? Remember then standing up and realising how drunk we were, and then rolling down a hill in the wet grass?

Remember that time when you came up to Shetland and it was glorious? Remember "she's from Boston!"? Remember the Easter dinner? Remember how lemony it was, and how delicious it was, and how Harry didn't like the sweet-potatoes? Remember "do the Ashley face!"? Remember the emotional moneys? Remember me telling you how freaking hot you are as we looked through your myspace photo albums? Remember buying cocktail pitchers from Flints and pulling funny faces for the camera?

It's just the surface. But I don't ever want to forget.