Shit silly girls say

My friend Lola and I are videochatting while we’re separated during this holiday season and this is just a snippet of our very intelligently stimulating conversation:

 

Me: Are Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt dating?

Lola: No, she’s getting out of a divorce.

Me: Are you sure because there’s a picture of them on her website and he has his arm around her waist and they’re sharing the same ice cream cone.

Lola: Well if it was on her website then they’re not together.

Me: Are you sure, look at this picture.

Lola: Omg why is he holding her like that?!

Me: I told you I think they’re going out. My friends don’t hold me like that nor do I share ice cream cones with them.

Lola: Lord, I wish my friends held me like that. MMmm! (She made this noise, like how you would sound when you were checking out a deliciously sculpted man, like Ryan Gosling, or if you just finished eating the best baby back ribs of your life.)

Me: How come I’ve never seen this website before?

Lola: What website?

Me: Zooey Deschanel’s website.

Lola: Ugh she needs to stop.

Me: It’s so good. She co-founded it with two of her best friends and they have a bunch of contributing writers. How come I’ve never seen this website before?

Lola: What website?

Me: This website: www.hellogiggles.com

Lola: Omg, this is so vomitrociously cute. Ugh. And now I’m following them on Twitter … Should we follow RhiRhi?

Me: Ew, no. Oh, so today Kim Kardashian tweeted, “What are your guys new year resolutions? I don’t have one yet, any ideas?” And I wanted to tweet back, “How about resolving to not get into a 72-day sham of a marriage this year?” Can I tweet that to her?

Lola: Yeah, you should! I’d like to see that.

Me: But will she read it?

Lola: Yeah.

Me: Then I can’t tweet that, it’s horrifyingly mean.

Lola: Yeah, but I’m sure she gets tons of tweets and not all of them are nice.

Me: Yeah, but you don’t want the 21st century’s next ruler of the world to remember you as the girl who tweeted something mean.

Lola: That’s true, she owns TV.

Me: You don’t fuck with Kim K.

And then our conversation twiddled off to the stupidity of long-distance relationships, our soul mates (hers: Seth Rogan; mine: Joseph Gordon-Levitt), and the general unfairness of our lives.

 

Just another Thursday night.

Words are escaping me

I want to be a journalist because I want to know things.

I don’t know a lot of things, I’m not smart.

I think that’s why I wanted to be a journalist, because journalists are required to know things, and if they don’t then they have to learn.

I want to know things and read things and understand things.

The frustrating thing is that I forget everything I learn. I don’t remember a thing I learned from college, because at the end of every semester, after every final, I would close my eyes and delete the mental files labeled Biology, and Mexican-American History, and Music, because I thought I was making room for more information, but I didn’t realize I was only hurting myself.

I’ve always had bad memory. I can’t remember simple things like 8 x 7 or what I was just about to do before I got distracted. It’s why I blog. It’s why I’ve always blogged.

I wrote about the most inconsequential things because at the time I thought they were consequential, and things I’d want to remember.

And I think that’s why I always wanted to be a journalist. Because paper lasts, words last, stories last, but memories don’t.

 

 

Remembering why I wanted to be a journalist is important because I’m starting to forget. I’m forgetting words, I’m forgetting grammar, I’m forgetting idioms, and how to pronounce things.

I can feel my brain degenerating, my cognitive senses flailing as I try to formulate a sentence.

I want to write, so that I don’t forget, but what do I do when I forget how to write?