More on Unreliable Brains

I am once again reminded of the mutability of memory (previously here) by a post from Cutting Through the Crap, which talks about a football player's detailed false memory:

Asked by the interviewer if there was any chance it was someone else who made hit, the man went on to recall the feeling of it, the joy of it, in detail. At which point the play was shown again (the movie was a mixture of footage from the game, with recollections of players all these years later.) The man was nowhere near the play; rather, he was at the bottom of a pile well across the the field.

Clearly, the mind is bizarre and cannot be trusted. I am casting doubtful glances at everything I thought I knew about my life. 

Of course, there's documentation for a lot of things. Photos of me under a pile at the other end of the field, journal entries, paperwork I've done, blogs, etc. 

Also I figure probably the boring parts are fairly reliable, because why bother to falsify that for myself? I wouldn't misremember having gone downtown and browsed around a bookstore but not bought anything, right?

Fortunately, there are a lot of boring parts. 

Or are there?