Every night between 8:30 and 9:30, a deer wanders down my driveway and sets of my driveway alarm. I generally run to the door to make sure I'm not being attacked by zombies (silly you might say, but you can never be too careful), and find nothing out there. Slippery bastards, those deer (I know it's a deer because I caught a fleeting glimpse of her once).
There are no deer in NYC. Well, actually maybe there are some in Central Park. I don't know, I didn't see any.
I just got back from the City, where I went to visit my friend Marianne. She seriously hasn't changed one bit since I used to hang out with her years ago (more than 10 even), and we had a great time talking and reminiscing about old times. I was reminded once again that it's important to keep in touch with people from your past, because they remember things in ways that you don't. The key is to not rely solely on your recollection of events as historic documentation - other people might have a better handle on how things went down than you, and it's important sometimes to see things how they really were.
That's tricky though. Memory is a funny thing.
Things aren't always what they seem, especially in retrospect. I remember things that happened completely differently than other people who lived through the same thing.
So, the lesson learned is that things are not always what they seem. A deer that sets off your driveway alarm might be a zombie, and what you remember to be history might not be quite the way it was. Nothing is always exactly what it seems.
So don't assume that what is setting off your driveway alarm is a zombie, but be careful, because it might be.
