Day Off

The PK quiz was a bit of a wake-up call. Nevertheless it didn't stop Jenny and me from spending the rest of the day in full-blast holiday mode.

After going to the city for takoyachi and a present for Victor's grandmother, we spent the afternoon attending to gifts for Victor and Jez. It started out as something I wanted to buy for myself, but somehow grew to what I thought was a decent idea for a gift.

(I just realised that while I was typing the above the ends of my hair were soaking in a bowl of soup)

It's been awhile since the two of us shopped, window or actual. While walking around Burwood Jenny suddenly realised how much money goes into our clothing funds. Think now and think high school.

High school: Jeans averaged $30 per pair.
Now: Jeans under $200 are cheap.

High school: $100 funds a shopping spree.
Now: $100 is often insufficient for one item.

High school: Tops shouldn't exceed $50.
Now: Tops shouldn't exceed $100 ... unless they're really pretty.

High school: Shoes range from $20-$50. Sneakers excluded.
Now: Heels range from $100-$200. Boots can go quite high depending on quality. Flats from $50-$100. Emergency shoes when only other option is to go barefoot from $20-$50. Sneakers, what sneakers?

High school: One bag for school, one bag for weekends. Price around $30.
Now: Luckily I'm not a bag extremist and spend on average $250 on good bags.

High school: Most frequented store: Valleygirl.
Now: Witchery.

Speaking of the past, while on the escalators to the third floor we bumped into none other than Eddie and Mrs Eddie. They didn't take notice of us and I was keen on avoiding awkwarding ourselves. I was amused to see that he was donning the Giordano sweater I spent some painstaking thirty minutes picking out from a snobby Shang department store. For a brief second I wondered why he hadn't thrown it out, passed it on to Allen (who was always sneaking clothes out of his wardrobe anyway) or stashed it away, then with a jealous twitch I remembered Jez's "I love vodka" tee.

Would you still wear clothes that your ex bought you? Forget clothes, anything really, anything practical. A pencil case, a wallet, a belt, a watch. Jewellery is probably out of the question for most.

I don't actually have any relics-of-the-past clothing. Possibly because I prefer buying my own clothes. I'm still thinking hard and apart from the few bits and pieces that were discarded long before the relationship was, my mind comes to a blank. I do still own the bracelet that my mother didn't let me throw away, but at the moment I haven't much clue on its whereabouts.

If I did have relics, would I wear them? No. Sometimes I think my memory is too clear for my own good. When I'm wearing my indigo BL jeans I can still almost see the patch where I dropped a slice of home-made pizza, topping side down, on my thighs on the second day after purchase. And that's stuff I bought with my own money, during my own time.

My parents have a strange concept of ex-etiquette. They love Jez. Whenever I do anything inappropriate (like speaking to a boy on the phone), it's "what would Jeremy think?". They tell me how mature he is. How well-behaved. How polite. How considerate. I sometimes want to answer back and ask them how they could know all of this when he spends an average of two hours per month in their presence. They're probably also unaware of the number of rooms in their house in which we've had sex.

One time when my dad found a few photos of Eddie and me on my computer, he told me to delete them. What would Jeremy think? My mum on the other hand wanted to pretend that the relationship never existed. Now that's all well and good ... but this is the same woman who salvaged my ID bracelet. And the same man who - well this gets a little creepy - took back a little wad of drawings I made of Eddie and me after I threw them out ... and kept them in the bottom drawer of his bedside cabinet. I would have never known this if I hadn't been rummaging around pointlessly two mornings ago, waiting for my tanning lotion to dry.

So yeah, I'm a bit confused. Forget or not to forget?