I’m packing again.
This time for Ohio.
(I can’t help but hear the very end of the Drew Carey Show theme song go through my head. OHIO! There is goes again.)
Tomorrow, I’m actually going to Columbus, not Cleveland (although I hear Cleveland rocks and we know some very special people in Hudson too (Hi to Jill and Kim!).
Packing up the suitcase again makes me sort of wish I had one of those clothing trunks, or hard case suitcases, that I could plaster with a sticker for each city I traveled to or through.
Or, maybe even a little sticker that I would place on the inside collar of every shirt I wore, or inside the seam of my pants. It would have the name of the city where I wore it. Just for memory sake, to identify the outfit with the trip.
Cause that’s how my mind works.
I catalog life moments through clothing.
When I was little, my dad used to think it was crazy how I described people I met by their outfit.
He would constantly ask me for petty little details like:
“What was their name?” or “What did they look like?”
To which I would reply something like:
“She had on a white sweater with blue pants and really cute white sandals with little flowers on the toes.”
“He was really nice and I liked his jeans a lot. They were acid washed but not too white.”
“She had really cool glasses, they were tortoise colored and had a really thin frame.”
It was a constant source of frustration in family conversations, which usually led to a lecture about how one needs to remember peoples names in life, that it is important, because people will change clothes and the next time you see them the clothing catalog system won’t work.
Yeah, I guess he had a point.
I’m much better now.
But, if I meet you in Ohio this week and I don’t remember your name, please know it’s not you, it’s me. It’s my strange brain that either mis-fires or is mis-wired somewhere up there.
(And, if I do fail at the name game, I bet I could tell you all about the awesome outfit you wore. Which in my wacky brain is truly a sign of love and friendship.)
Speaking of my own brand of brain deficiencies …Here’s one I screw up all the time, BIRTHDAYS.
So let me take a moment right now to say one more thing:
Happy Birthday Laura ~ see, I didn’t forget ~ I’m like a week early, right? Right?! Oh geez, I hope so.