Monday, December 26, 2011

I can't remember to remember

Yesterday morning, I spent 45 minutes looking for my Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I nearly formed a neighborhood search party! I was having a frantic I-need-it-NOW moment, which happens all the time to us chocolate addicts. I knew I bought one for this very (desperate) reason ... but where did it go! After much anxiety and a futile hunt, I saw the empty wrapper in the trash can in my room.

After a few seconds of very deep thought processing, I remembered I already ate it. Dangit! Last night. For some dumb reason, I subjected myself to two hours of J.Lo in "Enough," the stupidest movie I've ever seen. Don't even get me started on all the things I hated about it; that's a blog post by itself. So, obviously, I had to do something to make up for the robbery of my precious time. So I inhaled the chocolate cups of happiness, which erased the pain she caused me with her bad acting and stupid-looking hair.

My memory is so awkward-functioning. I mean, I can't remember devouring Reese's Cups the day before. I always misplace my keys, forget my passwords, grocery list items, bills and always forget to take my daily meds, yet I vividly recollect my 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Cardinal and her paddle like it all happened 2 minutes ago.

She was a large-framed, older white lady with a man-style haircut. The outer edge of her grey hair was always matted down to her skin because she was always sweating and fanning herself with random papers or flat objects like paper plates or that lime green Frisbee she always had on her desk, off limits to students.

I can still remember her raspy Southern twang and mood swings and the way she would give misbehaving students this cold, beady-eyed stare down, sometimes for several minutes without a sound until they noticed her death gaze and stopped moving, in horror. The paddle was still allowed in those days, the good old '80s. You got whacked on the ass in front of the whole class if you reached paddle status. My friend Rick got his name on the board and three checks next to it one fateful day. Three checks meant - the ass whooper! I still remember the humiliation on his flushed face and how he cried. That moment pretty much ended the crush I had on him since he was demoted from cool status right before my eyes. I couldn't dare have a crush on the kid who got paddled, eww.

Mrs. Cardinal always wore sleeveless shirts, and I was terrified of her upper arm flab and the way it would jiggle back and forth when she fanned herself or wrote on the chalkboard. I used to hyperventilate every time she looked in my direction. One time a classmate dared me to touch her arm flab during recess as she sat in her chair overseeing playground activities. I didn't want to be a wuss, so I nervously walked up to her while she wasn't looking in my direction and poked her a couple times right in the arm jiggle to get her attention. She faced me abruptly and asked "what is it, Fareena?" (I went by my first name in grade school because I was too shy to admit I went by my middle name, Neesha.) And I asked if I could go inside and use the restroom. It was originally a fake request in the name of the dare but after looking her in the face, I really had the urge to pee!

I also remember the time in 5th grade, my friend Chris pointed at my chest and said out loud, "You have big ol' boobs! That's weird. You're only 11 years old! Gross!" I bet he wasn't saying gross for too much longer in regards to tits.

I'm 35 years old. I remember 3rd and 5th grade but can't remember what I did yesterday. I do have a method for this madness. My husband has a razor sharp memory, so a lot of times I tell him and he reminds me what I need to do. Or I write myself notes. Sometimes I even set BlackBerry reminders. Remembering is hard work, especially when mixed in with two jobs, autism vs. Neesha battles with the spawn, upkeeping a house, cooking, writing, texting, facebooking, watching seasons of "Entourage" and "30 Rock" and "The Office," plus random Youtube videos about bellydancing and henna. I'm a pretty busy MILF, ya know.

Now ... hmm ... what was I supposed to do today after blogging?

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