It seems my memory is becoming more and more spotty. Perhaps it is early signs of Alzheimers, or maybe I have trained my brain to live-in-the-moment so well that the past has become a culling field to make room for new memories to take root. I picture my brain managers firing old brain cells containing all of that knowledge to make room for newer, cheaper brain cells with fresh ideas and potential.
With the loss of so many brain cells through what I assure you is not a proactive holocaust of my brain cells through persistent tidal waves of alcohol meant to drown my self-loathing regardless of collateral damage, I had forgotten that I was bullied by a fellow blogger to join a Christmas-themed blog hop set for Monday. Hosted by Cerdo on the Flipside (Finally! I found a blogger with a more confusing name than mine!) and the beloved Janie Junebug, the Favorite Christmas Memory Blog Hop is causing me great anxiety.
Whenever someone asks me my favorite anything, it is a form of personal mental terrorism to me. I don’t know my favorite current color, movie, band, nipple (that’s a lie, it’s my lower-central nip, the juiciest), or food. So when I’m confronted to recall a specific memory, I’m doomed.
Is my favorite memory seeing my 80 year-old grandfather-in-law pause from washing the dishes, produce a comb from his pocket and slick back his hair? Or is it the time I was so moved by consumerism that when I didn’t receive the toy of my dreams that I retreated to my room and cried while mournfully singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” in the dark, clutching my knees to my chest? Probably not that one.
What’s worse is that I forgot that I’ll be traveling on Monday. So I may miss out on the ever-important “hop” part of the blog hop. All of this because I forgot to remember that I forget.
More nefarious than the premeditated disposal of unnecessary memories, it may be that my brain cells responsible for second guessing and regret are bullying the brain cells containing happy memories into committing suicide. Which is why I can’t remember specific memories, then the brain cells that are responsible for remembering that I forget those kind of things commit ritualistic seppuku out of failing their duties.
If you are fully aware of your favorite Christmas memory and have the time and inclination to participate in a blog hop with some good people, I recommend signing up: My Favorite Christmas Memory Blog Hop (If you’re Jewish or Muslim or Atheist, I think you’re welcome to participate too…but no Wiccans! No, that’s not true…I think it’s not true.)