I Remember

inspired by Joe Brainard

Kaniehtiio Horn as "Deer Lady” in Season 3, Episode 3 of Reservation Dogs.

I was watching the episode of Reservation Dogs titled “Deer Lady” in August. In one scene, Deer Lady sits alone in a diner reading I Remember by Joe Brainard. I’d never heard of it, but I ordered a copy from AbeBooks after the episode ended. 

The moving wonder of Reservation Dogs led me to the moving delight of I Remember. This book is aptly titled because it is a book of sentences that begin with “I remember.” 

In the book, Joe Brainard often recalls his childhood in the 1950s, but the memories go beyond the ‘50s, as well as beyond the personal. Brainard recalls his life, the specifics of the era, and encapsulates universal truths in plainly stated sentences. Though I had to look up people, things, music, and movies from the era, I felt warm in the space of our shared humanity. 

Through the specific is the universal, right?

It was Brainard’s vulnerability that led me to want to try this exercise for myself. He shared moments of burgeoning sexuality in his boyhood—the confusion, embarrassment, and excitement of it. As I read these memories, I remembered how open, how confessional I once was in my writing. All I could write about in college was what was happening to me. I didn’t think I was that interesting. This was how I reflected and processed. 

Over time, I stopped being vulnerable in my writing. Much of it was because I became internet conscious. The voice in my mind became meaner, working to anticipate what any online reader may think of me—always, always something negative, brutal even. 

Despite this punishing voice, I’ve written more than ever this year and have received 10 acceptances for publication of my short stories. This roll continued until July when I looked at my work and didn’t see myself. The language wasn’t my own. I had determined to instill more of my heart into my writing before reading I Remember, but this book gave me a way to practice recollection and openness. 

Here are a portion of my “I Remember” sentences. They are rougher than Brainards, but I’ve decided that this Substack will hold my less polished writing. I don’t have readers in mind. I address this space as “Dear Diary.”

I remember cinnamon, sugar, and butter on honey wheat toast.

I remember packages of flavored rice. 

I remember putting a Crazy Daisy sprinkler under the trampoline. 

I remember Michael making me a mixed CD. I drew on the disk in marker. 

I remember “Crazy in Love” coming on MTV the first time I pulled an all-nighter.

I remember Mary-Kate and Ashley singing “pullin’ pullin’ pullin’ an all nighter.”

I remember a video rental store inside of Kroger. 

I remember watching wrestling with mom while we ate Taco Bell. 

I remember Choco Tacos from Taco Bell.

I remember accidentally renting a video in elementary school about the Manson family and watching naked people dancing outside.

I remember light blue pants from Limited Too that zipped off into capris and shorts.

I remember when saying “pedal pushers” instead of capris because my grandma helped raise me.

I remember watching House Hunters and Gidget late at night with my grandma because I slept in bed with her for too long. 

I remember hiding a pink razor in a password diary when I first started shaving but didn’t want my mom or grandma to know.

I remember “Us Against the World” by Play.

I remember the fall festival at my elementary school and crawling through a maze of cardboard boxes in the music room. 

I remember Zebra Cakes. 

I remember A/S/L?

I remember men telling me what to do on AIM.

I remember accepting a call from the county jail because I thought it would be my dad, but it was a man told me he was Michael Jordan.

I remember Kids Cuisine. The meals with smiley-faced potatoes were my favorite. 

I remember granny making Kool-Aid from packets I picked out at Walmart every week.

I remember a little boy shouting “sluts in the city” at me when I lived in Greenwich Village. His mom said nothing to him.

I remember lambs wool and ouch pouches inside of pointe shoes. 

I remember pink tights with dirty toes. 

I remember Nightmare Hour by R.L. Stine. 

I remember rushing to the nearest Mexican restaurant after church. 

I remember sitting in my closet.

I remember throwing putty with beads in it at the wall. My mom was mad because it took the paint off. 

I remember Parker Farrish’s blue suit and cane at the 8th grade dance. He was my date, but we didn’t speak at all. I found out he died in 2017. 

I remember the social studies teacher, Ms. Ridge, dragging me to the vice principal’s office because my fingertips passed the hem of my denim skirt.

I remember wearing brown tights with lace at the bottom under my denim skirt.

I remember discovering back massagers.

I remember the girl from the music video from “Lazy Eye” by the Silversun Pickups. I didn’t understand if I wanted to look like her or if the feeling was something else. 

I remember my 5th grade teacher Ms.Joiner giving me a book to read called The Weirdo. All I remember from it is a scene of a girl peeing in the woods. 

I remember tanning on the back patio. 

I remember walking around the neighborhood with Adrienne every summer until 7th grade.

I remember planning Adrienne and I planning who we would be for the next school year during summer break.

I remember “Yeah” by Usher coming on during the middle school dance in the gym.

I remember my pre-algebra teacher asking what grade I wanted.

I remember not knowing that flared pants weren’t new.

I remember not knowing “Satisfaction” wasn’t an original song by Britney Spears.

I remember starting my first period on my mom’s birthday.

I remember begging my mom to take me to the ER because my cramps were so painful.

I remember Neopets. 

I remember my neopets starving but never dying.

I remember trying weed for the first time. I couldn’t figure out how to use the bong, so a girl shotgunned smoke into my mouth.

I remember the cabinet above the refrigerator and searching for something I hadn’t seen before. 

I remember the anonymous message box on Myspace.

I remember polos under t-shirts.

I remember lotion with sparkles in it.

I remember “I’ll Follow You into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie.

I remember raccoon tail hair. 

I remember Bug Juice.

I remember chanting “sí se puede” while watching Gotta Kick it Up in my mom’s room.

I remember playing Cadet Kelly Obstacle Course on disney.com.

I remember Warped Tour.

I remember that the Monster bus at Warped Tour was the only place with air conditioning at the festival, but you had to be drinking the free Monster to stay on the bus. I don’t know how our hearts made it.

I remember being scared of “Clint Eastwood” by the Gorillaz.

I remember disliking hot drinks.

I remember reading Ishmael in my only college science class. 

I remember writing a song and singing it with my best friend to a teacher and her baby in the hallway in third grade. The popular girls watched us sing, and I wondered if they were making fun of us. 

I remember a clown at Wendy’s who painted kids’ faces on Thursday nights.

I remember riding the Georgia Cyclone at Six Flags.

I remember calling Joel’s house and asking his mom if I could talk to him. 

I remember receiving a valentine of a ballerina made with blow pens. 

I remember Joel giving me Valentine’s day gifts in 4th and 5th grade, but I was convinced it would be a prank if I accepted them. I didn’t acknowledge the gifts, even though they were on my seat. I sat on the edge of my seat to avoid them. I didn’t give him the gifts I had for him. His best friend’s mom shook me by my shoulders because of this and called me an ungrateful little girl. 

I remember cotton candy ice cream at Brusters.

I remember my grandma putting pink sponge curlers into my hair every night before picture day in elementary school.

I remember losing every lunch box.

I remember getting in trouble for walking home instead of taking the bus.

I remember Robert Stack and his trenchcoat. 

I remember being convinced the man who lived down the street was the kidnapper I saw on Unsolved Mysteries. There was a hole in the small, side window of his blue truck that I was convinced was a bullet hole. He caught me looking into his truck.

I remember boys singing  “Piss on You” from Chapelle’s Show in the back of the bus.

I remember dying the underlayer of my hair dark brown and the top layer blonde. 

I remember auditioning for the School of American Ballet. They went around the room asking each student to tendu, looked at our bodies, then lifted our legs. After the audition, they gave us a DVD. The director said “it’s all about the aesthetics.”

I remember loving the hollow space between my hip bones.

I remember my greatest daily pleasure being drinking a Dr. Pepper and watching The Nanny after ballet class.

I remember my parents asking me why I only wanted water instead of soda at restaurants.

I remember meeting Ellie in Lacoste. She introduced me to The Velvet Underground. Ellie saw me and opened the world to me.

I remember The Time Traveler’s Wife. Erin let me read her copy because she said it was a horrible book, but I loved it. Clare was the first character I saw myself in. 

I remember my boyfriend letting me drive his car to Atlanta when I was 14.

I remember when the first view of the Atlanta skyline was exhilarating and held potential.

I remember the abandoned house in Brooks next to my grandma’s plant shop. The old woman who owned the tanning salon told me a woman hung herself out of the window. 

I remember when everyone was a God to me. This is still almost true.

I remember when Barnes and Noble had comfortable chairs in the store. One day I read half of The Old Man and the Sea.

I remember Savion Glover on the cover of the December 2002 issue of Dance Magazine. It was my first dance magazine.

I remember floral wallpaper in the downstairs bathroom.

I remember dark stretch marks all over my butt. They went away.

I remember HORSE.

I remember Bloody Mary.

I remember Halloween night after trick-or-treating was over and staying up with my cousin and best friend on the palette my mom made for us to watch movies like Friday the 13th.

I remember the girls who came back with braids after spring break.

I remember reading The Kid’s Quest Study Bible to Courtney in elementary school.

I remember writing “personal relationship” under the religion section on Facebook.

I remember writing on each other’s walls.

I remember when I said I couldn’t date an atheist. 

I remember New-Skin. My grandma applied to my thigh after I rolled on a cat on the couch.

I remember being afraid of cats.

I remember Flintstone’s vitamins and how they tasted like chalk.

I remember birthday parties at Sunshine Playland.

I remember riding golf carts around Peachtree City. This wall I wanted to do on the night of my high school graduation.

I remember overdressing for everything and my grandma quoting Dolly Parton as a reason for this. “You might meet your husband at the mailbox.”

I remember laying in the driveway at night and looking at the stars.

I remember granny waiting up for me when I didn’t get home until morning as a teenager.

I remember granny hiding Harry Potter and The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis from me. I found them under the bathroom sink.

I remember Maybelline Dream Matte Mousse foundation.

I remember not being afraid of toxins in everything.

I remember being stung by yellow jackets in the woods as we searched for mushrooms.

I remember home phones. 

I remember boom boxes.

I remember the soundtrack to A Walk to Remember.

I remember imagining being interviewed.

I remember looking at my face very close in the mirror for signs of wrinkles before I turned 18.

I remember applying Vaseline and a hot washcloth to my skin at 11 to delay wrinkles.

I remember using baby powder as dry shampoo.

I remember walking at night.

I remember Horror Hill in Newnan.

I remember loving scary things but squinting through it all. 

I remember buying acid tabs that did nothing.

I remember the day before Christmas break.

I remember selling pink lemonade made from Country Time powder.

I remember buying Plan B twice.

I remember my mom crying at the Regions bank ATM.

I remember my cousin and I comparing the shape of our breasts in the mirror.

I remember sucking on my skin in kindergarten and showing it to the teacher so I could go to the nurse.

I remember laying on a cot in the nurse’s office.

I remember Steps on Broadway. 

I remember playing Barbies and coming up with dark plots including psychics, murder, and kidnapping. 

I remember going into my grandma’s room across the hall each night to kiss her and tell her I loved her.

I remember not being able to talk to granny at night until she was done with her prayers. I knew she was finished when her lips stopped moving and she opened her eyes.

I remember praying to all of the family members I never knew each night.

I remember the greatest physical pain I endured was during childhood.

I remember going to the doctor and hospitals for years through elementary and middle school only to find out the issue was constipation and anxiety.

I remember scratching my wrist to the extent it looked like I had been burned.

I remember the small table I used to play school and only finding out last year that it was a telephone table.

I remember cornbread and my grandma telling me she used to break it up into buttermilk. I’ve still never tried it that way.

I remember Kids Quest in Biloxi.

I remember Dr.Jergens self-tanner and how the creases between my fingers were orange.

I remember the feel of a translucent rubber ball in my mouth. 

I remember hoping for a letter in the mail. 

I remember my grandma’s arms with thin skin and ruptured veins from all of the blood withdrawals. 

I remember Xanga and all of the pro-anorexia pages I found when I was 11 and fearful of eating. 

I remember getting caught in a current in the ocean at Folly beach. I didn’t fight it because I didn’t know what was happening. The current brought me back to shore, and my parents didn’t notice. 

I remember rinsing Warheads under tap water in my great-grandmother’s bathroom.

I remember nothing being as organized, strict, and “big” as I thought it would be. 

I remember nothing being as bad as I thought it’d be.

I remember how new clothes exuded an aura of who I could be. I still think I can become new with the right outfit, but clothes don’t seem so much like entities anymore.

I remember watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose with Erin in theaters. We play-freaked out when we smelled smoke in the air the next morning because in the movie it was said that the smell of something burning indicates the devil. 

I remember the firetruck that came and rained water on us during field day.

I remember gathering every Wednesday in college to watch American Horror Story: Coven.

I remember flying with mom during her trips before 9/11. She was a flight attendant for AirTran at the time.

I remember Curl Up and Read Day in second grade. I brought my Little Mermaid sleeping bag with me. 

I remember reading all day.