Remember me? and A Place Called Here

Remember me? by Sophie Kinsella

A book I spotted and have been reading in bookstores such as Borders and Kino during those periods of waiting ever since last September. I seem to be attracted to memory/amnesia-related things, the best example being wang zi bian qing wa. These things just seem to call out to me.

About the book: Lexi Smart in 2004, who was characterised as a poor lady with snaggle teeth and frizzy hair and was a low profile employee in Deller Carpets, had a rough day at work when she was not given a bonus and was stood up by her boyfriend Loser Dave, tripped and lost consciousness that day. Only to wake up from a car accident in 2007 with a whole new look with a slender body, teeth done up nicely, and finding out that she's married to a gorgeous rich husband - basically having the perfect life one can ever imagine. But the past 3 years bring no memory back to her at all, and this books aptly describes how she attempts to fit back into her seemingly perfect life, only to discover that life may not be that fantastic after all. She realises that she has lost her best friends, her baby sister has changed dramatically from an innocent little girl to a rebellious teenager, and that she probably doesn't love her husband as much as she had expected to. The most shocking discovery would have to be that she was involved in a likely affair with her husband's architect, Jon.

This book is realistic in the sense that she doesn't entirely regain her memory despite her desperate attempts to squeeze something out of her head. Only till the last part she is able to retrieve one tiny memory/feeling, and that to me, is the sweetest thing of it all. I really enjoyed reading this book, it just kept me hooked to it as I craved to know how Lexi managed her new life, to the extent that that is the first book I hungrily open to read whenever I step into any bookstore.

It made me think...why do I like memory-related issues that much? Is it because of the possibility that losing your memory gives one a second shot at life? Or that losing one's memories can erase the pain and hurt that one has undergone? There are serious repercussions to it, such as having to learn and adapt to your past all over again and risking the chances that you might be cheated by evil people out there to take advantage of you. But sometimes I just wonder: How would it feel like to be given a second chance? Not that I hate my current life, but if a second opportunity in living my life again knocks on my door, I would grab it immediately. To have fewer regrets, to do things that I should have done back then, not to make those mistakes. But as they say, I would never learn if it weren't for those mistakes.

A Place Called Here by Cecelia Ahern

Sandy Shortt - a lady who probably has obsessive compulsive disorder of searching for missing things constantly. This disorder struck her since her neighbour/classmate from across the street disappeared when they were 10 years old. She racks her brain as to how things can go missing and not be found, and that they will eventually end up somewhere. Where that is - she spent her entire life running a missing persons agency dedicated to looking for that answer, encouraging family members and friends of the missing and giving them hope in the process. Things turn around for her as she realises that she has also gone missing, and that being missing has allowed her to discover things and feelings she had never imagined, and to finally find what she has been looking for.

This book could serve as a motivation for others in not losing hope in looking for things that one think can never be found. But the question to me is: Will I ever find what I've been looking for? Or is that the right thing to be searching for? Or do I even know what I am looking for or am I going around aimlessly in circles, not knowing my direction in life or where I'm headed for?


A whirlwind of emotions has been stirring within me these past few days.
I'm searching for a way, or a turn of events, to calm myself down.