Wednesday, January 20, 2010

It's Definitely Not Cancer, so I'm Sure it's Something Much Worse

The other day I was went to enter my home phone number into a form and I couldn't remember it.

The information just wasn't there.

It was so frightening. I had to ask my 7 year-old our phone number.

A couple of weeks ago, I was driving home with my whole family in the car after a night out with friends. We were talking about another neighborhood and all of the sudden I focused on the road and didn't know where I was. For a minute, I thought I was in the other neighborhood and couldn't figure out exactly where in it I was. I shook my head and knew where I was again. It all happened so fast, but it seemed to go on forever.

My heart was pounding. I tried to laugh it off.

Tonight I was talking about The Princess Bride with a friend. I was listing off all of the people in the movie: Peter Falk, Mandy Patankin, the kid from the Wonder Years and...not Robin Williams...his friend...he's a big Yankees fan...he's a comic too..."you look mah-velous!"...he's balding...damn what is his name??

Yeah. Billy Crystal. I couldn't remember Billy Crystal's name!

I'm a little freaked out. Is it normal to be forgetting information like this? It's like I go to the place where it should be in my head and it's just blank--I may even hear a swift breeze blowing through.

The hypochondriac in me is convinced it's early onset Alzheimer's or a clot or some other horrific disease that will make every one feel sorry for me yet not sorry enough that they'll come and visit me when I'm drooling on myself and muttering something about vibrators. The cynic in me says I'm just a garden-variety, batshit-crazy woman with three kids, a job, a house, a few hobbies, some volutneer commitments and low-blood sugar overreacting.

If it's Alzheimer's, remind me to be really pissed.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Would It Kill You?

There are a disturbingly great number of you who are visiting this site for the sole purpose of learning more about Howie Long's hair.*

Really?!

Of all the things you can Google, THAT is what you want to know? I mean had you already exhausted all of your porn phrases?

You need a life.

I can recommend one way to begin redeeming yourself. Leave a comment below. Tell me a little about yourself. Share a joke. Make me smile. Hell, just say hi and let me know you were here (actually I know you were here--I can see it in my stat counter--but it feels so cheap the way you just sneak in and out without ever turning the light on).

I know. I know. I could be writing more frequently. I've lacked inspiration lately, plus I was too busy trying to find out more details for you on the whole Howie Long "hair plugs or not?" story.

He's not talkin.


*Once...a very long time ago...I questioned whether or not Howie Long had hair plugs after seeing him in a Super Bowl ad. To this day, I get my biggest numbers after Sunday football coverage. You all are weird.

By the way, it's taking everything I have not to find my way to Haiti to lend a hand. I wrote about my feeling of helplessness on DC Metro Moms today.