Tuesday, 27 January 2015

On Being Mr Memory.

One of the episodes of Mayo I watched recently had an actress in it who I used to know during my time at the theatre. Not only were we on first name terms, I even got the occasional hug. (Mind you, there’s nothing particularly significant about being hugged by an actress. Actresses hug anything that moves, and probably lots of things that don’t. I never minded being hugged by actresses, it was being hugged by male actors that made me a bit queasy at times. Any proclivity I have to being tactile was always highly selective and strictly rationed.) Anyway, the point is that I couldn’t remember her name. I had to look her up on IMDB. Isn’t that sad? (It was Heather.)

And then tonight I read an old post of mine which had a sentence in it I didn’t understand. I really don’t remember for the life of me what I meant by it. That’s sad, too.

And then there was something else…

Oh, yes. In another old post I said: ‘August 1st is a particularly significant date to me.’ Is it? Why?

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