I went on a date a year or so ago, nice guy, just not the guy for me (do I sound like a broken record?).
Anyway, we were at The Levee, having ice cream on a bench (I love ice cream). Chatting it up (there was no chemistry though). My friends KS and KS walk by, so I get up to say hello, guy follows. I am about to introduce them.
I drew a total blank.
I couldn’t remember his name to save my ass. So, being as smooth as I am, I just didn’t introduce them. Yes, it was awkward.
For the rest of the date I continue to rack my brain, his name just wouldn’t come. Finally, when I return to my car, get out my phone, and finally discover his name.
HAHA no, it wasn’t Mulva; I still don’t remember it though.
It has been established that I have short term memory issues. I’m not, however, rude, generally.
I hate it when I get random texts or emails… I never remember. It always takes a photo to jog my memory. I’m not really one of those “I don’t remember names” kinda people. I kinda don’t remember anything.
Maybe, as RP says “I just can’t be bothered”.
It’s weird, however, the things that I do remember. I recounted a story to a friend about something that happened about 3 years ago.
I was having a conversation with a gentleman; he was slightly mentally disturbed and had a rather long goatee and a large tattoo on the right side of his face.
He starts telling me how he going to let the goatee grow just as long as it possibly can.
So, I feel like I should encourage him. “Yea! Then you can braid it and put beads and shit in it!”
He gives me a horrified look “Why would I do that?” he asked.
Without hesitation I said “Dude, you have a tattoo on your face, why wouldn’t you?”
He paused for a minute “Yea, good point” he said with a smile. I just suggested that he not rule out the possibility of the proper accoutrements pulling his look together. I’m a giver after all…. Give, give, give…
I have a tendency to talk to EVERYONE in the same manner. Friends, little kids, the elderly, the mentally ill… and as I always say “Most people like me, the ones that don’t are assholes.” Of course that could be my delusion.
Ok, that’s not true really. Babies don’t really like me at all and a lot of old ladies have an aversion to me. Old men, however, love me. And dogs love me. I have an aversion to babies, they make me uncomfortable, I can admire them from a distance, but I am not one of those girls that have to pick up every baby they run across. I mean, if they were choking or something, I would pick them up, but not just to admire them. And baby talk?? Oh hell no.
Now a puppy? I’ll waller the shit out of a puppy… (my hillbilly just slipped out, with the term “waller”). I will also talk baby talk to them, but never to a human.
I haven’t slept in days and days. I have terrible insomnia. I have for years. I’ve periodically suffered from night terrors and been a sleep walker. Those two things have abated. Now, it’s strictly insomnia.
So last night I decided to self medicate with a little bourbon, a fire and Instagram.
I got about 3 solid hours of sleep, so it semi-worked.
I need a night of spooning, which would surely be the cure.
And finally, a photo of me in wig #2:
I love wigs!! I need a plethora of wigs, all different colors and styles! Except platinum, I cannot pull off the platinum. I feel fun and naughty in them!
I have an awesome costume for Halloween, the wig, the nice vampire teeth, and now the girls aren’t going pub crawling with me! So, I need to work on alternate plans. I am wearing the costume out, if I have to go walk around Target in it all night.