I Remember You
Hmmm…awkward!There are entire TV series, books, whole newspapers, and certainly billions of blogs devoted to people ranting and raving about things that drive them up the wall. I tend to rant off stage rather than putting it all on record here, but the other day something that really does my head in happened.
Someone didn’t remember me when I remembered them.
I won’t go into detail, but this person should have remembered me. I directed him in a programme, for a few weeks, only three years ago. I think it’s acceptable that I should in saying, “Hello, how are you doing?” be in receipt of a “Hi, fine, nice to see you! How are you?” instead of a “Oh, now how do I know you???” quizzical stare and a bumbled attempt to place me, even after I’ve explained who I am in relation to them. I don’t particularly find it embarrassing and I don’t find it a blow to my ego- I just find it rude. If I remember you, you should remember me. It’s as simple as that.
Maybe it’s my peculiar problem because I always do remember people. I might not always remember names but I never forget anyone I’ve met. I just don’t. OK I can also remember a ridiculously unimportant amount of film trivia and plotlines from Coronation Street, but I don’t think I’m that unusual. I’m not exactly a circus freak.
It’s also not that I image change every five minutes like David Bowie, and I haven’t dramatically aged backwards like Benjamin Button. I have had the same hairstyle since time in memoriam and may even be wearing the same boots and clothes you saw me in ten years ago. Flares have been my jeans of choice since 1987. I haven’t even flirted with slimfit. There’s no excuse.
SO, if you get caught not remembering someone here’s my handy tips in not letting it show:
1. Pretend you do. “Hi, my goodness! How are you? Great to see you!” That works.
2. Smile instead of looking like someone has just whacked you on the cheeks with a three day old fish.
3.Ask enthusiastic questions the answers to which may give you clues but won’t look like that’s what you are doing “Wow, you’re looking great! So what are you doing now?”, or, “Gosh, when would we last have seen each other? Let me think…ages ago!”
Never say:
“Christ! Who are the blazes are you?”
“Nah, still not placing you…”
“Should I know you?”
“I’m sorry, I meet so many people…..”
“Did we…did we…you know?
“Help! Security!”
All of those make you look like an arse. And contrary to newspaper reports last week that medication and surgery may soon be developed that can help erase painful memories, the science isn’t there yet. So don’t try the old, “Sorry, I had brain surgery that help remove painful memories and you must have got wiped as part of that”. No one’s falling for that old chestnut.
So there it is. It’s right up there in the pantheon of Things That Annoy Misssy, along with litter dropping, not indicating, incorrect use of apostrophes and using the F Word as a gap filling tool in sentences.
People forgetting you. It’s rude. Make an effort.
Otherwise, forget about it.
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The Flying Martinis are crap.
We’re here; we’re in Holland. It’s not exactly gone without a hitch. Some of the reasons for this may be my fault but rest assured I’m currently working on a revisionist history where they are all Meeester’s fault.
Things we forgot:
- Waterproofs for Misssy and Meeester. Kids are fine as usual.
This is normal practice for me. Two months after giving birth to Indy I went down to Edinburgh to show him off to friends. Indy had every thing a new newborn could possibly need, I had NOTHING. I forgot to pack anything for myself. Had to go to Marks’s to buy undies. Had to go to Boots to buy toothbrush. Proof your brain goes mushy when you pop one out.
So since the thunder and lightning storms are frequent here in otherwise warm and lovely Zuid Holland, there’s not much we can do. It’s either buy new waterproofs or go naked. Had a torrential storm about an hour ago. Meeester had to go out to sort caravan awning as it was needing re-pegged (guess who half arsed-ly did the pegging…) and he went out in swimming trunks.
It would have been hilarious if he wasn’t threatening to divorce me through the plastic windows. Maybe I should have put my wine down and helped him. Do you think so?
- Sleeping bags. Oh we’re so crap.
- Sheets for the double bed. See above.
- Worst of all. As bad as all of above put together and put to the power of ten. I forgot my makeup. I don’t do au naturelle. And frankly I am disdainful of people who do. There’s no need.
Let’s just say that the ferry on-board beauty shop did some brisk business.
5. Oh and we also forgot that Hull is in bloody South Yorkshire and not “just below Newcastle”.
We missed the ferry.
