I was talking about this event and generally how cool of an event it was. And I was discussing this with my boyfriend. You know, the one who was my “date” that night.
Um yeah. I didn’t remember it. You know, until he said, “I KNOW! I was there with you…”
Blink. Blink. The silence is deafening, indeed… Yeahhhh.
To be fair, we were mere WEEKS into dating, although I’m fairly certain there was enough of a comfortability in the conversation to talk about blow jobs in reference to those miracle tasting berries, of course. Ahem, as if you expected something different. Shouldn’t a fun date night be universally remarkable?
Reason #4,876,201 I should not have children. WHOSE are these?!
I have to make lists of everything. Absolutely everything. I currently have 12 Stickies open on the desktop of my laptop — three of them are To Do lists for each of its own classification, and I’m certain one contains the words “Delete One Of Your To Do Lists.” Then, there are a couple more saved on a Notes App on my iPhone.
I can’t remember meeting people after a certain amount of time has passed — another outrageous mistake, being that it happened at a networking event with people I SHOULD REMEMBER MEETING. I can’t recall how big (or how small) my ex’s penis was. And yes, I even think back to guys whom I dated in my 20s and cannot recollect if we “did it” or not.
But of COURSE I never let my significant other forget a single thing in our relationship or that HE “forgot” to have sex with me this morning. It’s a hard-wired female trick that I think not even the depth of Alzheimer’s could short-circuit.
Names? Forget it (pun intended), which is why name tags are INCREDIBLY effective and essential. The tricks “they” try to teach attaching names and faces to something completely inanimate (or inappropriate, as it were)? Doesn’t work unless you drew a set of balls on a tag or professed your profession as Woman of Mystery — underneath your name in all lower-case letters (I needed a couple more seconds of looking at your breasts deciphering your handwriting).
I have a problem with years of date too — not birthdays or anniversaries (typically… but Google Calendar synced to my iPhone has been a life saver!). Unless it was my name in certain print and publication, I cannot retain dates of employment or when I lived in Arizona or when I was engaged. I know I bought my condo four years ago, but mostly all my prior addresses are a blur. Can I tell you how difficult it is to update and/or recreate a resume with this condition?
No matter how many times AB tells me the year of his birth, I guess it wrong. Even if I have to count on my fingers the years that separate us and try to figure it out THAT way. Ironically, I remember our phone number from when I was in elementary school, but can’t figure out how many years ago was I in tenth grade? Perhaps Math is my problem as well.
Cell phone alarm to remind myself to take my birth control everyday? Yep. It’s worked for 15 years, why kill a good thing by sterilization or IUDs.
People, I need my blog to remember what I did last year. Last night’s forgetfulness solely lies in the hands of the Alcohol Gods. That bitch.
I make no apologies that my memory is horrible — there is obviously nothing I can do to rewire that portion of my brain. But I hate to think about how much worse my memory lapses will develop as I age.
On the bright side, at least I remembered that *I* was at that event. I cannot guarantee that if asked next year my response wouldn’t be all “oooh, oooh! We MUST do this!”
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February 21st, 2010 at 9:18 am
My current boyfriend insists that we actually slept together, like SEVERAL times over ten years ago. I kinda sorta maybe remember one time, but none of the others. So I feel you.
Bridget´s last blog ..Wait, isn’t Vancouver on the Moon? Isn’t that why everything is so clean?
February 22nd, 2010 at 9:09 am
I know you like to travel… thought this site might be useful to you.
http://www.budgetyourtrip.com/
February 23rd, 2010 at 7:52 am
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