Laura

Memory is my nemesis. It's as simple as that. Some things come naturally, others don't.

Like names.

My pastor once told me that he can walk up to a 30-year parishioner and completely forget his name. I laughed.

Until it happened to me.

Usually these events are rather sporadic. Usually they never repeat for the same person. Usually a few choice mnemonics can set the problem to rights.

However, the concept of "usually" means that such trends are meant to be broken. Yes, even with something as mundane as memory (or the lack thereof). See, I have a friend named Laura...

Except you wouldn't know that her name is Laura. I never call her that. It's not intentional, it's just... yeah. The first time it was funny, the second time less so, the third time embarrassing, and the progression has continued downwards from there.

Last night was the final straw. I called her by the wrong name, and ended up writing a map on a notepad with an arrow pointing to her seat at the table to remind me.

The frustrating thing is, with most Lauras, I'm a-ok. It's just this particular one that gives me trouble.

It's kind of a dangerous situation if you think about it. Say you're playing frisbee. Good practice is to say the name of the person you're throwing the disc to. Call out the wrong name and give a particularly aggressive throw, and bad things could happen.

I mean, really. Imagine the resulting obituary: "killed by forgetful friend."

Not good.

The result is this blog post. I'm putting all my chips on the table. If the ol' grey matter can't take a hint by a global publication of its failings, nothing will work.

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In retrospect, perhaps I should have anonymized her name. But then, as I know multiple Lauras (five at last count), the same aim is achieved. Besides, with my luck, I've probably got the wrong name, so all is well.


Until next time,
- Daniel