I've been thinking a lot about happy memories from my childhood, and silly stuff that happened then, and I live hearing about other people's childhoods. So yeah. One of my fondest memories is of Special Effects, an arcade in nearby Scotts Valley. It was a little hole-in-the-wall in a strip mall, and it looked a bit scuzzy, but in reality it was one of the absolute safest places a parent could leave their kids--it was run by a former school security guard, IIRC, and he made damn sure his establishment was a safe, fun spot for all ages. My dad would take me there nearly every other weekend. We would get forty bucks worth of tokens--twenty bucks worth apiece--and play until we ran out of tokens, at which point my dad would give me any tickets he'd won. I'd pool them with my own and redeem them for little trinkets like beaded bracelets (I had a HUGE collection back then) or necklaces or silly toys. I still have some of the stuff I got at the redemption counter. It closed when I was twelve. I remember my dad taking me there one last time, mere days before it closed forever, and crying on the way home. Actually, video games are how my dad and I have bonded all my life. He's been playing video games pretty much since they were a thing, so I was raised on them. One of my earliest memories ever, in fact, is of us playing Pole Position on his old Atari. (He'd let me win occasionally when I was little, but once I got better at games he didn't hold back. I remember finally getting a higher score than him at a game--Food Fight, which was among the arcade emulators we kept on an old computer--and feeling super weird about it. :P) We also bonded through music, since his tastes have always been more congruent with mine than my mom's have. He was huge into Evanescence when I was twelve or so, and we liked (poorly) singing along to Bring Me To Life in the car. Nowadays he listens to a lot of Jonathan Coulton (I got him into his music!), so we still do the singing-together-in-the-car thing. My mom, meanwhile, bonded with me through books. (I'm actually trying to get her to read Homestuck, in fact--I think she'd like it.) We even had a deal for a while where she'd read a book of my choosing and I'd read a book she picked out. She's also shown that she pays attention to my fandom sperging. She even used to quote a webtoon I was super into in middle school, and knew all these little details about it. She's the same with HS and Gravity Falls--she actually remembers almost everything I tell her about them. My high school graduation is another great memory. My friend Hiatt had come to visit, marking our first IRL meeting, and since his visit coincided with my graduation, he attended. My grad party consisted of me, my parents, Hiatt, my then-boyfriend Jeremy, and Jeremy's sister Jessi; we went out for pizza and then we went to my house and played Apples To Apples and Scattergories. Also, at one point Hiatt and I went to a local ice cream shop, Marianne's. He had August And Everything After by Counting Crows playing in his car, and we sang along to every song (again, not very well). Anyone have some happy memories to share?
I did a summer camp once and I was in the drama class there. The last day we were there, the day after we'd done our performance, we had nothing official to do. And it was pouring outside. The streets were flooded up to my knees. So we all took off our socks and shoes and walked to the nearest park and we sang a bunch of songs for some people getting off a bus. After about an hour we walked back and put our shoes back on, then left the building again to go to lunch. The rain had stopped and all the water was gone. The flood had been all for us.
@Acey it was perfect. it was the perfect ending, and even if it hadn't been an ending, it still would have been perfect.
Speaking of perfect endings to camp... In sixth grade--my final year of elementary school--my tight-knit class went to science camp for a week. That was kind of a bad experience, to be honest, but the aftermath made it all worth it. One of the kids, Zack, threw a pool party after we left camp. Now, not all of us had been to his place, and a lot of us were expecting an above-ground pool in a middle-class neighborhood, since Zack didn't seem rich--he dressed like your average tween boy and wasn't the type to flaunt the latest gadgets, and his younger sisters were similar in that regard, so I just assumed he was around my economic level. (It was a private school, but a lot of us, myself included, were more middle-class, albeit mostly upper-middle-class, than wealthy.) Imagine my surprise when it turned out he lived in a gated community, in a mansion, with a beautiful swimming pool completd with a hot tub and a waterfall! That wasn't the really fun part, though. See, his house was built atop a hill, with a garden going down the hillside. There was a big oak tree at the top of the hill, just overlooking the ledge, and attached to it was a sturdy rope swing. It was pretty thrilling to play on, since the hill was pretty high and steep--it was like flying! In fact, I think most of us found the swing more enthralling than the pool, or the giant TV, or any of the fancy stuff. At some point, one of my other classmates--I think it was Paul--decided to throw an unopened miniature soda can from the swing onto the walkway in the garden, just to see what would happen. Much to everyone's delight, it exploded, and a bunch of us began tossing things from there and laughing at the results. Sixth grade in general was one of the best parts of my life. Our teacher, Ms. Leonardis (Ms. Leo or Ms. L for short), was this tiny twentysomething who had just started teaching (we were her first ever class, IIRC), and a lot of parents were concerned our rowdy class would be incredibly tough for a new teacher, but she wound up being the perfect teacher for us. She wasn't afraid to discipline us and she taught us a ton, but she also got us. She was privy to all our inside jokes, she treated us like almost-equals (while still asserting authority!), and she never talked down to us. We were also super close-knit. It was a tiny school--about a hundred students, with one class per grade and only eleven kids in my grade (nine boys and two girls--one of those girls was me, the other was my friend Emily)--so everyone knew everyone, and since it was an advanced school, we were all fiercely intelligent, if more than a bit odd. (Also, like half my class was on the autism spectrum, so...yeah.) I'm still in contact with Ms. L and many of my classmates, particularly Emily and Paul, and some of us are hoping to have a ten-year class reunion. I really hope that happens.
it's funny you started this thread, i was just remembering the other day of the time when i was like three and i was being watched by this weird lady my mom knew from church, and i wandered around their house when i was supposed to be watching movies with all the other kids and i snuck into her teenage son's room and unscrewed the cap on his waterbed. i just kinda watched it pour out all over the floor, and then i left. i heard her yelling at him for it. i also learned to read and write a little early, and around the same age my mom said i wrote my name on the wall and very vehemently told her it was my brother who wrote it, even though he was 1 1/2 at the time. i remember playing with my dolls when i was supposed to be sleeping during naptime in preschool. i remember my preschool teacher calling me smart instead of weird, like the other teachers did. i remember her talking me and another girl into the stairwell to learn how to read during naptime instead of laying there waiting for the lights to be turned back on. i loved that teacher. i remember staying up much later than any second grader should and reading through the entire narnia series, and then talking for hours on end to everyone about it the next day at school. i remember the feeling of learning a new vocabulary word. i would always try my very best to squeeze it in to casual conversation. i once got told off by my PE teacher for saying that a bench was damp because if the previous nights rainfall. i pretty much mumbled everything except damp, she heard damn. i remember the time i came home from a friend's birthday party, tired and socialed out, and my mom had found a kitten under the house. we still have her to this day, and she is the best lil old lady ever. she got me through a lot of shit in life. i remember being so bored and hungry during a long revival meeting i was dragged to that i ate an entire box of soybean crayons, simply because they said nontoxic on the side. they were the glittery kind. i remember my step dad letting me and my brother play medal of honor when we were very young, and watching our first scary movie even younger after only being allowed to watch veggietales and tamer. my brother threw up, it was hilarious. i think it might be okay to laugh at that now, he loves scary movies now. i remember my dad buying us kites, and me wanting my brother's batman kite so bad until he got it caught in a tree not five minutes after he tried flying it. i remember the year i went easter egg hunting, and went home wanting to eat the eggs. i went with my great grandma to spend the night, and i brought my basket with me. i asked her to give me one of the eggs, i assumed there was candy inside. she looked very unsure, i said it was fine. she took the eggs and came back holding a plate, still looking unsure. she set it in front of me. it just had a raw egg yolk on it. i have never been so disappointed, what maniac just paints actual eggs and puts them in a field for children. last one, i remember learning a stupid magic trick and doing it so many times that the entire school was banned from doing it because everyone was so annoyed. it was a very small school though. sorry for the long post, i'm just happy remembering this stuff. it's kinda nice to think about the happy stuff instead of just the shit.
Oooo! I'll only do one, but I just want you to know seeing this thread brightened my day ^_^ One of my fondest memories is from back in the day when I spent the weekend at my best friend's house all the time. He was in band at the time, so he often wouldn't get back until really late at night. I was laying in bed, secretly waiting(I was supposed to be asleep) for him to come home. When he finally arrived, I figured that I shouldn't bother him because it was late and he was probably tired. Anyways, he started playing my favorite video game character's theme on the piano("the nightmare begins"). And I laid in bed listening to it because I didn't want to interrupt him. After he was done, I came out and we chatted for a while. He told me he played that song hoping I'd still be awake. It's still one of the sweetest things anyone's done for me <3
Bumping an old thread, but I'm going on a road trip, so I remembered some more happy things! When I was eight or so, I went on a road trip with my maternal grandparents. I don't recall much of it, but I clearly recall that at one point we stopped at a candy shop. They let me pick out a few treats for the road--I don't remember all of what I got, but I know I tried these weird colorful rice candies with sour powder inside. I remember liking them more for their appearance than their taste, because they reminded me of flying saucers. :D In third grade, my parents woke me up one morning. I was surprised to see both of them, since normally my dad was at work by the time I was up, and I obviously asked what he was doing there. He said he took the day off so he could spend time with his family, and I protested that I had school, so that didn't make sense. He responded, "Would you rather go to school, or would you rather go to Disneyland?" Turns out my parents had planned a whole trip to Disneyland behind my back, even letting my teacher in on the secret so he'd know I'd be out of town! I didn't really process that we were seriously going until we reached a gas station we'd always stop at in Paso Robles, several hours into the drive, and I spent the whole trip being slightly unconvinced that it was not, in fact, a dream. We also took a side trip to Hollywood, where I got a plastic Oscar saying "BEST TEACHER" for my beloved third grade teacher, Mr. Spero. (He was a major inspiration to me, and very much deserving of that silly plastic trophy. He kept it on his desk for the rest of the school year.) On that same trip, my parents and I rode the Jungle Cruise one night, shortly before closing. It was late, so I was the only little kid on the ride, and the skipper used that fact to give me and my parents a truly magical experience. He announced to the people on the boat that he was too tired to drive safely, and asked if "the girl in the back with the Piglet ears" would be willing to steer us safely down the river. It goes without saying that the girl was me--I had purchased a pair of Piglet ears earlier in the day and was wearing them--and my parents (who were just as pleasantly shocked as I was) urged me to go up and help the skipper out. I took my job very seriously, and the skipper applauded me at the end for a job well done. So yes, eight-year-old me got to drive the Jungle Cruise. (The Disney Magic is real as shit, okay.)
What a delightful thread! Reading everything in here has really cheered me up. :) Here's a little memory of my own from when I was a teenager: When I was 17 my family was visiting an aunt who lived in Portland for the 4th of July. Her daughter - my cousin - is my age and we've always gotten along well. When we all headed downtown to watch the fireworks, cousin and I found the idea of actually sitting around waiting for fireworks boring, so we went off to wander the streets of the city, which was REALLY EXCITING for me since I'd lived in tiny towns all my life. Around 10pmish, cousin noted that someone she knew had just started a nightclub that was an all-ages venue, should we see if it was open? I was like HELL YES, so we went over - turns out it was like, one of its first nights open, and since cousin knew the door guy, we got in free. Since it was so early in the night (from a nightclub point of view), there were only a couple other people there besides us, so we milled around listening to the music (mid-90s techno) and working up the courage to go dance. As more people started trickling in, we finally got out to the dancefloor - which was on a big stage, since the place used to be an old theater - and started dancing. I'd never, ever just danced around by myself before, like you do in nightclubs, so that was the night I discovered that dancing is pretty much one of the most fun things ever. We danced, then would go rest in the theater seats, then get up and dance again. Some raver kids came in and to me at that point in time, the way they dressed and danced was one of the best things ever, and then one gave me one of his glowsticks to dance with and I was over the goddamn moon. Cousin and I ended up staying there all night. For the last hour or so I crashed out in one of the theater seats because I was so tired. XD When the club finally closed near dawn we left and wandered the streets until the busses started running. I'd never been out so late - or early - before, so seeing the streets of a city filled with the mist and soft grey light of pre-dawn on a summer's day was a wonderful new experience. As we wandered we encountered a group of giggling young men, high off their minds on something or other and full of harmless cheer who wished us good morning. When we finally got back to my aunt's place, the adults were furious - this was in the pre-cellphone days so they'd had no idea where we were - but since we were safe and happy and clearly hadn't been drinking or anything, and cousin and I were rapidly becoming too tired to stand, they let us be. As for me, I was exhausted and my ears rang (I don't know how I didn't permanently damage my hearing - don't be like me and go clubbing without earplugs, omg) and thoroughly satisfied that I'd had one of the best experiences of my life.
I liked going to the San Clemente beach a lot as a kid and we thankfully went a lot. We had friends who lived down there who my father surfed with. Said friends are who taught me what little I know of surfing. I sadly forget the woman's name, but she was the own who owned the board we were using. A nice long board that Benji, the one friend who I do recall the name, used to teach me. Sitting was the hardest part. Sitting is a rat bastard. Standing isn't that hard though. We practiced on the sand with that first so I would at least know the general way to move. It's very different on the water though. You have to be careful. It's definitely a "solid" surface in a fashion so to speak and you don't have to be scared of standing. But you can't just brute force it like you might on land. We went out a few times together. It was lovely. And then I was allowed a few gos by myself. And that I remember quite fondly because it sticks out as the one moment my father was ever proud of me. Because I managed quite early on to figure how to actively ride a wave as opposed to just being pushed along by one. He was just so happy and impressed that I was attempting that. And that is the only time he ever was.
I was about seven years old. We needed a new answering machine message for our home phone. My dad had written a little script and wanted my help. The final thing went like this: Dad: *picks up phone, sounds of a gun battle in the background* Uh, hi, thanks for your call but we're a little busy at the moment. Leave us a message and we'll try to get back to you. Me: *in background, yelling* DAD, THEY'RE BREAKING THROUGH!!! *sounds of an alien screeching followed by several shotgun blasts* *beep* Recording it was the most fun ever. No one that knew my family batted an eyelid when they heard it, but I'm not so sure how other parties took it...
when i was about 4 or 5, my grandpa took me out to the playground in his old model-a ford. because it didn't have seatbelts, he stretched an old jacket over my lap and tucked it under either side of the passenger seat. i remember complaining about how slow it was, and the ride seemed to take forever, but...when we got there, we were almost immediately surrounded by curious parents and grandparents and even some of the other kids, all admiring the make of the car. everyone was firing off a million questions at a time, but grandpa answered them as quickly as they came. i was so impressed, it seemed like he knew everything about cars--even more than my dad! then a bunch of the adults started cooing over me, because i kept on interjecting my own commentary into my grandpa's answers and trying to show off all the stuff my dad had taught me about cars, too. it was overwhelming as hell, but scared as i felt i also kind of fucking loved all the attention i was getting. i felt like a movie star! and even after i got out of the car and ran to play on the monkeybars--nice and far away from where the other kids were congregated (by the tireswing)--i kept on looking back over at where my grandpa was sitting on the bench, still answering people's questions, and i just felt this inexplicable, aimless pride glowing inside of me. afterward, he stopped at a bakery on the way back and bought me a great big kartoshka, but he said i had to keep it a secret from my grandma and my parents because they'd get mad if they found out--after all, kartoshka are made with a pretty generous splash of rum. then, the two of us went back to the house and watched videotapes about dinosaurs and deep space on the big black-and-white tv in the library until i fell asleep. honestly? i kind of still think of it as one of the best days of my life. nothing complicated or crazy; just happiness in its purest form.
