Thursday, May. 20, 2004 - 9:46 A.M.

I have a terrible memory. So terrible in fact that when people ask me my age I have to figure out how old I am by doing the math�let�s see, 2004 minus the year dirt was created is�aha! It�s truly that bad and it�s not my attempt to be coy about my age. I�ll tell you right now! I�m 23. See? I ain�t scared! (Um, 23 plus about 11 years�). <<<< Shut UP conscience!>>>>

It affects every aspect of my life, everyday. EARLY one morning, when my oldest son was a toddler, we made the first of many trips to the emergency room for an ear infection. (Ear infections are always at their worst at 2:30 a.m. Ear infections are night owls. It�s a fact.) While speaking with the nurse, she asked me my son's date of birth and I SWEAR I could not think of it. It�s a good thing his father was there or they might have thought I had kidnapped him. They might've put out an all points bulletin for the real mother of this poor child. One who could recall important details like his birthday at the drop of a hat.

Regarding the same son, around age 7 his excitement and joy at placing his lost tooth under his pillow in hopes that the tooth fairy would leave him some money were snuffed out like a treasonous Mafioso when I forgot to retrieve said tooth and leave said money. I felt awful about it too. I think. Speaking of the tooth fairy---when I was a kid I got like, 25�, and was happy about it. Nowadays, you practically have to take out a loan.

The son those stories are about is 14 now. I have another son who is 2. I have not yet had occasion to screw up royally with him...yet. Never fear though, young one! Momma will tarnish and destroy your image of her soon enough!

It�s become an inside joke in our family. Not just our immediate family, extended family as well. And close friends of the family. Even not so close friends. Come to think of it, I�m not sure how in the world my employers have any faith in me at all. Surely they have cottoned on by now? Maybe they have made statements? I can�t remember.

If I don�t write things down they are gone forever. And I can�t just write snippets of information that will jog my memory later. I essentially have to write a full out description and detail the details. Another person�s simple note to remember to pick up the dry cleaning is approximately the length of War And Peace when I finish writing it.

I hear other people recall childhood memories like they happened yesterday. While I do have many memories I can recall, I am missing even more. Perhaps you are thinking I�ve done a few too many drugs, smoked a little too much Mary Jane and drank a few too many beers. You�d be wrong. (Er, only about the drugs though. Beer is my friend. I embrace the beer.) Not that I haven�t ever done drugs, but no more than the average person who experimented a little. At least, I don�t think I did. Did I?

This could be bad.

You Give Me Fervor - Friday, Feb. 17, 2006
Revamped Sex Camp - Thursday, Jan. 26, 2006
I'm Not Dead - Tuesday, Jan. 10, 2006
Ebert And Roeper? Watch Your Backs. - Tuesday, Nov. 29, 2005
Coffee? Tea? Map? - Monday, Nov. 07, 2005

� Purplecigar

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