Things that make me mad

Ridiculous super powers and my insanely mundane and unhelpful memory.

Please, allow me to elaborate. I hate the hiccups. Once I have them in a day, I know I'm going to get them again. And I don't get dainty, ladylike hiccups. I get the kind that jerk my whole upper body and leave me sore in the chest. Not a great experience. On the other hand, ever since I have known Erick, he has been able to control his diaphragm when he has a hiccup or two and stop its spasms. Imagine my frustration and infuriation when he advises me to calm down and focus as my body heaves involuntarily. I have always taken him to task for wasting such a clear gift of mind control on the hiccups. "This must be the lamest super power that I've ever heard of," I always said. That is until the last few times I've had the nasty hiccups and have been able to stop them after only a few minutes. This makes me mad. Are you telling me that I can choose to control my body, but only to rid myself of the hiccups? How about my metabolism or my hearing or coming down with illness?! I'm just saying. It's a ridiculous super power.

Okay, part two, which holds a similar frustration to part one. My memory. I have a really, really terrible memory. This is not an exaggeration or an excuse. It's a fact. My memory is particularly unreliable when it comes to names and how I know people. I can't remember names of people who were in my life on a daily basis only a few years ago. I can see faces but not names.

An example is easy to come up with. In recent months, I have met several new people. Two of these people are connected to my friend Hillary. These two also happen to share some similar physical characteristics. The circumstantial differences are that with one (let's call her Stacey), Hillary and I shared a long evening, full of laughter and deep conversation. The other (let's call her Sharon), was Sophia's babysitter one night. A lovely young woman with whom I shared general pleasantries but nothing beyond small talk. I haven't seen either of them in a few weeks. Fast forward to last night. Emily, Erick, Sophia and I were at the Botanical Gardens for the free concert. A young lady walked up and said, "Hi Laurie!" It took me a minute, but I placed her as Stacey, a person with whom I have a relationship of sorts. I stood up and gave her a hug, of course. It was more awkward than I expected, but no problem. Then I continued in the conversation with the assumption that I was talking with Stacey, not making any overt mistakes but enough small ones that I began to notice something wasn't right. All the while, Erick was looking on with an amused expression, and I had no idea why. Finally, she left, and the light turned on. That was Sharon. Not Stacey. Awkward. Unreliable memory.

Flashback a couple of weeks ago. Erick made a comment about the title of a book by Harold Bell Wright that I haven't read since junior high school. I answered with the complete title and could have added the rest of the author's works if asked. Why? That information was never important to me. It was just there. So why would my mind choose to retain that over people? This makes me mad. Really mad.