Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Who Needs a Good Memory When THIS Is the Stuff You Can Remember?

I have an awesome memory. Now hold on. Before you get all annoyed and like, "What's SHE bragging about?" let me clarify. I can't remember anything remotely useful, such as:

  • Directions to my dermatologist's office, even though I've been there three times
  • How to perform CPR
  • Where I put the charger for my phone

What *can* I remember? Symptoms of practically every terrifying and deadly disease out there. Can you die from it or be disfigured by it? I can rattle off a few symptoms (and probably have a handful right now). Sure, they might also be symptoms of something completely benign, but that never, ever stops me from leaping to the worst possible conclusion the instant I notice something odd.

Apart from symptoms of awful diseases, there are a few choice nuggets I can mine from my Cave of Early Memories...fond moments, such as my sister referring to me as "cigarette butt," which was infuriating because technically it wasn't rude, even though it had the word "butt" in it. Or the time I convinced a boy chum that we didn't really need to go inside to poo; we could go right in the yard and use leaves for toilet paper. (Many years later I ran into him in 5th grade and, struggling for something to say, asked him if he remembered that incident. He claimed he did not. He then avoided me for the rest of middle school.)

A seminal moment in my, er, development into a full-blown hypochondriac was likely the time my sister told me that one in four persons get cancer, meaning someone in our family would get it. I was a wee lass, still believing everything my sister said (e.g., that trading my jaunty blue jeep for the crappy wooden car/cigarette holder my parents apparently would slide down the table to smoking guests at lavish dinner parties) was a good deal. Judge for yourselves:

This isn't the exact one we had, but it was pretty similar. Cool, right?
Here's what I traded THAT for:

"Ha ha! Ms. CrankyPants, you sure were a dumbass!"
Now, 30+ years later, the wooden cigarette car has a certain charm. Heck, I still have it; who knows what happened to the jeep? The point is, as a wee lass playing with Little People, I was getting the short end of the stick for sure. I mean, the Little People didn't even FIT into the wooden P.O.S. car:

Hey, that balding chap on the right was the dad in my Little People family. I named him Sir Jeffrey Brown, but my sister insisted on calling him Sir Jeffrey POO Brown. 
The Little People's bottoms were too fat to fit into the slots that were designed not for Little People, but for an attractive array of cigarettes. ("Joe? Care for another Virginia Slim?" my mom might say, wheeling the wooden car past admiring guests and toward the extremely impressed Joe.)

So back to the game and my ill-advised trade. We'd be playing at driving somewhere, and my people would be falling off the wooden P.O.S. car from their precarious position resting atop the vehicle, while my sister's Little People would trundle along in their jeep like gangbusters. It was Very Annoying Indeed.

How any of that relates to my original point, I have NO idea. Oh, right, seminal moments, blossoming hypochondria and all. So, yes, an impressionable and gullible wee lass turned into a raving lunatic who has to go tomorrow for an ultrasound to investigate a "swelling" in the neck. If you don't think I've conjured up every horrendous scenario that might result from tomorrow's test, well, I have. And then some. Plus 10 and to the 100th power. Etc.

Wish me luck. I'll be wearing my tiny bluebird of happiness earrings, bracelets I bought in New York City for some ridiculous price that have little charms that are supposed to bring good luck, and, what the heck -- I might even tuck Wee Squeaky into my purse for extra insurance. The thought of her smiling (mockingly? Kindly? Pityingly?) as I am sweating profusely and startling/annoying the technician with occasional hoots of nervous laughter and lame jokes might help. A wee bit.

24 comments:

  1. You write such interesting stories! Trading with your sister, we all seem to do that?? Kids:)
    The test will be over before you know it, I would think....I wish you luck

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    1. Thanks, Kim! Yes, I'm sure all little siblings get the short end of the stick on trades.
      I hope the test will be quick and have okay results. Gulp!

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  2. Best one yet! I didn't know you remembered about the jeep & the peeps (remember, we called them peeps, not Little People). AND, Sir Jeffrey was actually Sir Jeffrey PEW Brown. Aside from these minor quibbles, great post!!! Tuck a peep in your bag for good luck & to keep WS company is my last thought! MK

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    1. We were on the vanguard of the "Peeps" movement for sure! And speaking of movements (haha), I didn't use "Pew" in my post as I didn't want to confuse any readers. I think Mom was the only one in the universe who called poo, pew. Ewww.

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  3. Deep breaths = best advice I can offer you. It will be over in no time.
    Halt Stop Forget Relax

    Sorry the Little People didn't fit, but IMO the wooden car was cooler.

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    1. Must remember to breathe deeply, yes. Thank you.

      The wooden cig/P.O.S. car was WAY cooler! Just didn't seem so at the time!

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  4. Loved this post. Def. take Wee Squeaky, she's a sure source of good luck. And yeah, the wooden car is way cooler. I'm waiting for you to invite me over and send a cig down the table to me. Thinking of you tomorrow!!!!

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    1. Amy,

      Wee Squeaky is in my purse right now.

      Next time you're over, I'll fill that baby with cigs. What's your brand?

      Thanks for thinking of poor sad me.

      XOXO

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  5. Oh yes, take Wee Squeaky. And instruct her to give the technician the evil eye. He/she is NOT to find anything untoward. Or face Wee Squeaky's wrath. And mine.
    As the youngest in my family I was robbed in the swap stakes. Badly and often. And I do carry grudges. That is what my memory is devoted to.

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    1. I've given Wee Squeaky instructions re: the evil eye. She just grinned at me. I think she understands.
      The youngest sibling does suffer plenty of indignities! I seem to have a relatively large portion of my brain devoted to them, too. :)

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  6. Great post :) I sympathise...I have a tendency to remember utterly pointless stuff, like the person who starred in that random movie 10 years ago, but forget rather major things like when my husband is going away for a week! Good luck for tomorrow m'dear!! x

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    1. Thanks, Chloe! Hoping for good luck indeed.
      You're a step ahead of me: I can't remember actors' names/movies they starred in OR major things! (Just awesome things like disease symptoms and bad trades as a child.)

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  7. Thinking of you and Wee Squeaky today and hoping it all goes really, really well. Let us know as soon as you have any info!
    x
    p.s. I'll trade you Wee Bubble for Wee Squeaky....

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    1. Thanks you, SIF! Just got a call from my doctor's, confirming what the ultrasound people told me: all is well. Yay, Wee Squeaky! (She's going with me on all future appointments; I even got a couple of pictures today, when I thought I could do it discreetly.) But I might consider a *temporary* trade. It'd be funny to have pictures of them exploring different countries!

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    2. Hooray for Wee Squeaky and her evil eye.

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    3. Thank you, EC. The kindness and support I get from readers of this blog is really lovely.

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    4. That is a most excellent idea! Maybe I could send you a 'care package' - could pack some Maltesers, pork scratchings, bombay mix and a bacon buttie for you!
      Do you know in Sweden, they have chocolates called 'Plopp'? I had great fun in the shop asking for 3 packets of plopps.
      Anyway, The Teenager will not get out of bed, so off to get a pitcher of water ready.....
      X

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    5. SIF, I was going to ask you about this, because in a book I am reading, Maltesers are referred to, and you have mentioned them several times. I must google this item at once. Hopefully they're allowed on the Swank Diet. I suspect bacon butties are NOT - but my husband just said he'd snatch it right out of the care package, so that problem is solved! (Do you think they travel well?)
      Not surprisingly, I am amused by Plopps. So sad.

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    6. Oh, Maltesers are fab, and as they're mostly air, they don't really count as chocolate (honestly). I was also hoping IKEA would sell Plopps but so far, my investigations have proved futile.
      I can't even eat their meatballs any more as they found out they were made of horse meat, meh.
      I am very much enjoying my American book, 'The Art of Fielding'. Can you believe the author is called Chad??? Can't get more American than that. I wish I had gone to an American college and joined a sorority. Such fun!
      x
      p.s. When I was living in Norway, I once said goodbye to my hosts and thanked them for a lovely evening, in Norwegian. They fell about laughing. Apparently I told them I was going to stab myself, right here, right now. Most odd.

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    7. SIF, I will find Plopps and include them in your care package. I might have to eat a few myself, though. Unless they have horse meat. Ugh. I read that article. Hideous.

      Off to stab myself. Immediately.

      Yours,
      Chad

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  8. Pleeease, how could the dude NOT remember taking a deuce outside & wiping with leaves? Give me a break!
    He remembers...he's just too ashamed to admit he accidently used poison ivy to wipe.

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    1. I know, right? I was too mortified to pursue it at that point. (Or should I say POO-sue it?)

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  9. Glad you are ok. My partner has, after removal of over 14 teeth, the stomach flu trip to hospital, now the precursor to that flesh eating disease...possibly, if the antibotics don't work...we will know more tomorrow. I swear, I want to wrap her in bubble wrap. UGH. OK, I have an incredible memory. It always sounds like bragging, but it is just fascinating to me and a gene thing because my great aunt who lived to 103 was the same. She remembered the Titanic sinking day and how the papr boy ran down her street. She could recall dates, taxes, addresses of every house she ever owned. I remember my 2nd year---well. It is what it is. (I thought it was the norm) I think the Internet has screwed with my memory---so much trivia. I find myself intentionally forgetting and I am a horrible speller. (why can't I recall words? Well, I HATED school spelling bees, especially after I started winning them. I think my brain is rebelling.)

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    1. Diane,

      First - thanks. Second - I'm very sorry to hear about your partner. I hope hope hope things turn out okay.

      That is amazing the things your great aunt (and you) could remember. I dunno, as someone who really struggles with memory, I think it'd be great. Of course, you remember all the bad with the good, I suppose. I do remember a spelling bee in 4th grade (?). The word that made me lose -- I was soooo close to glorious victory -- was prairie. Damn that first "i"!

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