Month: November 2013

*Catchy Title*

January.

That’s the plan.

January 2014 is baby-making time. I’m gonna order some of Mr. Happy Pants‘ seed, put my legs up a wall, and think of England.

Or maybe I’ll go out on New Year’s Eve, get wasted, find some rando who seems to have a fair-to-middling IQ, have unprotected sex, and cross my fingers.

(JK, MOM. Condoms r gr8! I <3 protected sex!)

(JK, DAD. I’m a virgin!)

It occurs to me that, if I’m going to blog about this process, and of course I’m going to blog about it, the series should have a name.

Something catchy like:

Single Gal Makes a Baby

or

And Baby Makes Two

(Never mind—just Googled that one, and there are two novels, a documentary, a feature film, episodes of both ER and Three’s Company, and a smug column in the Wall Street Journal with that title.)

Maybe instead:

Fool’s Errand

(What am I doing?!)

Whoever comes up with the best title for the series wins a prize. A really good prize, like brunch or something.

I’m Not Saying I Have Face Blindness

But I kind of have face blindness*?

Recently, I was out with some friends. A very drunk young woman, who I guess I had met at a friend’s party? twice?, came up to me and said, “I’ve seen you walking around East Campus three times, and you always look like you’ve never seen me before.”

My arms went numb. I said, “Yikes, I’m so sorry. I’m the worst. I have a lot of trouble with faces.”

royalty-free-face-clipart-illustration-93729

To make matters worse, I’m not great with names either. Unless you have an unconventional name, or a conventional name with an unconventional spelling, and you tell me how you spell it, then I’ll definitely remember. I’m great with spelling.

What does stick with me is your voice and your story.

I went to lunch with some of my gym gang and introduced myself to a dude I (thought I) didn’t know. He politely told me his name. I said, “So what do you do?”

He said, “I’m a mechanic at a Lexus dealer,” and I was like, “Wait, I’ve met you before.” He said, yeah, we had both been at a birthday party a few months prior.

I think one of the reasons I don’t meet people easily is because I’m terrified that I’ve already met them but I have no recollection of it.

So what I’m saying is, if I’ve met you, and I introduce myself to you or I look right through you, I swear to god I’m not being snooty. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t remember your face. I just have no visual discernment. (This deficit may explain my difficulty with the aesthetics of home decor, fashion, and makeup.)

I really do love to get to know people, but it takes me a while, so hey, if we ever meet, will you do me a favor? Will you say your name, spell your name, say your name again, and tell me a weird anecdote about you? And then the next time I see you, I’ll be like, “Hey, Veronika with a k! You sold a sawed-off shotgun to an undercover cop once but he let you go because he liked your sleeve tat! How you been?”

*I don’t really have face blindness. I took an online test. But it may be kind of like when I got tested for Celiac and it came back negative, and I was like, “But gluten hates me!” and the doc said I was non-Celiac gluten-sensitive. Maybe I’m not face-blind; maybe I’m just face-insensitive. Or maybe I’m just insensitive. Maybe I’m just an asshole. Gah! I’m the worst. Sorry sorry sorry sorry.