Today is the birthday of Brian, a guy I dated for about six or seven months in 2001, before I dumped him for being an ass. He ended up moving to Birmingham, AL to work on Blackhawk helicoptors or some such shit. The last time I saw him was Halloween 2002 when he was in Indy visiting friends. We went to see Johnny Socko at the Patio and then, um, some things might have happened after that, but I don't remember because I was really quite drunk at the time and I was seeing someone else by then, and if anything did happen it probably wasn't all that great anyway (sorry Brian).
The point of my post is this: I have a freakish talent for remembering birthdays. I somehow am able to recall birthdays of people that I haven't seen in years, and will probably never see again. For instance, my friend Heather from third grade--August 2. My first boyfriend--June 30. My second grade teacher (we celebrated her birthday in class)--November 15. See? I can't figure out why the hell useless shit like this lodges itself in my brain, taking up space that could be used for more important matters like where I put my damn car keys, or Einstein's Theory of Relativity, or any amount of knowledge that could have helped me out at some point. Imagine what an insane genius I'd be if I was able to use all that excess memory for something other than storing birthdates of people I don't know anymore! It's a scary thought.
Here are some more examples:
Simon Le Bon--October 27
Nick Rhodes--June 8
Andy Taylor--February 16
John Taylor--June 20
Roger Taylor--April 28
Maybe I should look into Scientology. Aren't they all about harnessing the power of your mind or whatever? Seriously, I don't know--that's why I'm asking. Perhaps Tom Cruise would be willing to come over and school me. However, I have a sneaking feeling that as soon as he started in with that "Take vitamins instead of Paxil!" bullshit I'd have to beat him senseless. I can't fucking believe he was going off about how Brooke Shields should have taken vitamins to cure her post-partum depression (she recently wrote a book about it, apparently). Anti-depressants? Nah--just pop a couple Centrum, that'll do ya. Christ, he really needs a good shoe in the ass. And I'm totally kidding about looking into Scientology. I have enough misgivings about "real" religions--no way in hell am I buying into some spaceship-worshipping alien shit.
Where was I? Oh yeah--happy birthday, Brian. I hope you totally don't know about my blog--I wouldn't want you to read the shit I wrote about you.