First Time Caller, Long Time Listener
The title is a lie.
It's gone past 3.30 in the morning. What sociopath would still be up at this hour, pounding furiously at the keyboard? Well, one who is afraid of the wrath of Alicia. But a promise is a promise. I curse the company firewall that prevents the accessing of blogs during the normal witching hours because it violates the Company's principles. Erm... that's like Nike saying that they respect human rights because their office building in New York is non-smoking (as per legislation), but carry on utilising the untapped human resources in third world countries to their extreme advantage. Anyhow, that's just a long-winded way of saying that in fact, I am a mere First Time Caller, First Time Listener. And like any human being, the blame lies with someone else!
As I scrolled through the various posts, what strikes me most is my inability to remember anything that happened more than two days ago. Yet another lie... that would be one day ago. I find it amazing how people can pick the purest of memories from their brains. Perhaps it is because I have lived such a non-exciting life, that nothing is worth remembering, or is it because my subconscious has purposely suppressed the memories? I guess I will never know... So maybe, just maybe, the truth has been told. I am a long time listener, but I just don't remember.
2 comments:
FINALLY! Someone has accepted the blog invitation AND contributed! Well done Michelle Teo ... in spite of your attempt to be mysterious with that Latin monicker.
You cannot possibly have such a bad memory, especially after having put your fellow classmates through such HELL in secondary school. You headed the football betting cartel - granted there was no cash involved, but I recall being arm-twisted into pitching for Crystal Palace ... or Newcastle ... or some other team because you wanted to calculate the odds.
AND you had a strong liking for strong symbols - the Russian sickle and hammer, for one. Our nickname for you was Godmother.
Now tell me you don't remember all that?!!
OK. Right. I guess Ste might have better luck figuring out the divordurum than me - he browsed the online Latin dictionary last night, the closest result being a small French village.
Stop being difficult and jump on the nostalgia bandwagon, will ya? I think it's important for us to DOCUMENT our memories lest we FORGET them with the onset of the 30s. Yes yes, sorry to say that you can't be in denial for much longer ... just a week or so to go and you'll be in the same geriatric bucket, honeypot!
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