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I saw Sooj yesterday. She’s actually very very good. I highly recommend going and seeing her if you get the chance. Anyone with her voice should be making a couple of million a year singing. Check out her website, if you’re interested.

As you can plainly see, my website is down right now. So why am I blogging, you ask? Simple… I’ve already lost 3 or 4 posts because I didn’t feel like writing posts that no one could see, and if I keep up that attitude, I’ll lose another month worth of stuff that could go on my website when it comes back up. I was recently reminded of how much this website serves to chronical my life to a certain extent. My sister found this site a while back and went back and read the entire thing. All 2 3/4 years of it.

One of the things that I hate most about being me is my bad memory. Let me be more specific, my bad memory for people, places, and events of the past. My past. I apparently have some really great stories in my past, and when people who were there tell the stories, it’s like hearing stories about other people, and I occasionally feel bad that I can’t remember them. It’s sad that my memories have to be told in the third person.

And it’s not just things from high school, either. I sometimes can’t remember things or people from just a little while ago. For example, I spent an entire semester marching and talking with mellophone player that I would have considered a friend at the time, but I ran into her at the beginning of the spring, and I couldn’t remember who she was. I had to ask Deedee how I knew her, and Deedee explained to me who she was and how I knew her and her name. That’s just sad. It did signify one thing, though… When I become director of NASA, I am going to pay Deedee to come to every social function with me and whisper in my ear who people are and why they’re important and how I know them. Proof that behind every great man, there’s a woman with an excellent memory (isn’t that how that goes?).

I also have a bad habit of checking the mail more than once a day. This is probably the biggest cause of concern to me, because everytime Deedee points out to me that I’ve already checked the mail today, I am reminded of Celine’s neighbor who had alzheimer’s and checked her mail 11 or 12 times a day. Well, if I’m already up to 2 or 3, I’m not in good shape, am I? Can’t be good to have early signs of alzheimer’s when I’m only 25, can it?

I guess I’m not to horribly concerned because there are things I remember. Pointless things, like telephone numbers from 1989 and others I’ve only called once, social security numbers for people I met 7 years ago, 7! (5040), Pi to 8 digits, and the number of licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop (thank you, Brian). I also remember scientific crap, like the mass of the sun in grams, the glide slope of a 767-200, and the significance of 1.21 GWatts. I can also recite the Prologue to the Canteburry Tales in perfect middle english. (I imagine that will come in handy one day, like I’ll be walking through the mall and someone will yell out, “I’ll give a million dollars to the first person to correctly recite the prologue to the cantebury tales in middle english.” … yeah)

Somehow remembering little factoids doesn’t make up for lost memories, though. Given the choice, I think I’d rather remember my own life than the highlights of someone else’s.

Until the time that I check my mail a dozen times a day, I’ll keep writing, and hopefully I’ll remember everything a little better. If not, it’ll make for some good stories for the old and senile me.

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