Girls Write Out
Friday, March 10, 2006

Is there a pill for memory loss? I need one. I need a bottle. Shoot, I need a lifetime supply.

At our book signing on Saturday, a woman comes up to the table and says, “I didn’t know you were a writer.”


She says, “I want to buy the three books you have here, and I want you to sign them.”

I’m shooting prayers heavenward for any kind of sign that will help me remember who this person is because I’m thinking I have never seen her before in my entire life.

Frantically, my mind searches for a name but, well, it’s just not coming to me. Finally I say, “I’m so sorry, but I’m having a menopausal moment. Where do I know you from?”

She says, “I go to church with you.”


Now, before you judge me too harshly, we do run close to 850 people on Sunday, okay? Still, I have to admit she also tells me that for a short time she sang in our choir. I sing in the choir. Our choir runs about 60 people. I can only hope that since I’m a soprano, she was in the alto section.

Unfortunately, my day doesn’t get any better. People come and go who are from my husband’s school corporation, and I don’t know them either. I won’t even talk about the couple I’ve known for 16 years whose names I couldn’t remember. I did recognize my husband when he picked me up, though. So that’s good.

I honestly believe it’s more than age that contributes to this memory loss thing. I’ve heard about the evils of sugar substitutes, and I’m convinced that it’s killed off far more brain cells than I care to admit. As in, I have very few left. Okay, none. So I’ve given up diet pop. Why, I haven’t had a diet pop since—well, I can’t remember.

I also think my mother has something to do with my current state of mind. When I was a kid, she pulled my hair into ponytails so tight that it stopped the blood flow to my brain. Now I could be wrong, but something tells me that ain’t healthy. Saying nothing of the sagging face it’s left me with.

Side note: If you’re considering plastic surgery, save your money. Go to my mom. She’ll fix you up so your face will never move again. I’ll give you her name and number—as soon as I find them.

All that to say please don’t be offended if I don’t know you at conference. Instead, be happy for me that I’ve remembered the conference, my flight ticket, my luggage, my name . . . .

Diann Hunt  
posted at 7:15 AM  
  Comments (11)
Delicious Delicious
At 9:40 AM, Anonymous Sandy said...

I just started laughing when I read where your mom pulled your ponytail so tight that it stopped the blood flow to your brain. I thought my mom was the only one who did it that tight. I remember taking off my ponytail at night and what a relief that was to my head. I also remember having a headache after that. You are right about going to your mom if your thinking of getting surgery because my eyes and my forehead were stretched when my mom would do my hair.

At 11:54 AM, Blogger Ron Estrada said...

I believe that all of us reached the peak of our mental capacities in the half second before our first child was born. After that, it's drain-o city for the brain cells. When my son looks at me with a straight face and informs me he forgot that he was supposed to use soap in the shower, I feel a few cells imploding. So, don't blame yourself, Diet Pepsi, or you mother. Blame your children!

At 12:23 PM, Blogger Ane Mulligan said...

Boy can I relate! :o) At first, I tried to blame my memory lapses on the fact that when I moved from Los Angeles to Atlanta, I didn't have any frame of reference to the hundreds of new people I was meeting. Sigh. But I've been here for 16 years now, so I guess I can't use that excuse any more, huh?

Well, that only leaves the hormonal factor. Pregnancy and menopause -- they both eat your brain cells.


One question -- what do men blame their memory lapses on? ;o)

At 2:04 PM, Blogger Malia Spencer said...

Men don't have memory lapses, they use up all their words before they get home or their wife exhausts them by chatting on the way somewhere and so he's got a built in excuse. How's that for regurgitation of every excuse I've heard over the years? LOL

At 4:23 PM, Blogger Diann Hunt said...

Great comments, all! It's nice to know I'm not alone in this state of forgetfulness. :-)

At 10:06 PM, Blogger eileen said...

I read all the comments and thought I'd leave mine....WHAT was the topic?

At 7:33 AM, Blogger Diann Hunt said...

Eileen that was HILARIOUS!!!

At 7:28 PM, Blogger Rhonda Gibson said...

Ok... I can't believe Ron and I are the only ones who left our pictures here so Di could refer back to them at conference.

Pony Tails? mine riped mine out by the roots just brushing it out EVERY morning and evening.

At 1:59 PM, Blogger Diann Hunt said...

Oh my goodness, Rhonda, that is sooo funny!!! So kind of you and Ron to leave your pictures for me. I'll be sure and look at them before the conference. They will come in handy if I happen to remember the conference, my ticket, my luggage . . . . ;-)

At 9:39 AM, Anonymous Suzanne said...

We had a church garage sale a couple of years ago and I was working the table where people were to pay. I also decided to invite everyone to church. I invited this one little old lady and she looked at me and said, "Honey, I go to this church" Imagine my husband is the pastor!

At 6:28 PM, Blogger Kayla said...

Don't's not age! *grin* I go to a church where I see about 2000 people each morning...from the stage. I play in the band and since I'm the only female musician the camera workers always put me onscreen, so everyone in the congregation knows me and tries to come talk to me in Taco Bell. I just smile and nod my head and wonder how the heck they know my name. *facepalm*


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The Authors
Kristin Billerbeck
Kristin Billerbeck is a proud Californian, wife, mother of four, and connoisseur of the irrelevant. She writes Christian Chick Lit; where she finds need for most of the useless facts lulling about in her head.

Colleen Coble

Colleen Coble writes romantic suspense with a strong atmospheric element. A lovable animal of some kind--usually a dog--always populates her novels. She can be bribed with DeBrand mocha truffles.

Denise Hunter

Denise Hunter writes women's fiction and love stories with a strong emotional element. Her husband says he provides her with all her romantic material, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too.

Diann Hunt

Diann Hunt writes romantic comedy and humorous women's fiction. She has been happily married forever, loves her family, chocolate, her friends, chocolate, her dog, and well, chocolate.

Hannah Alexander

Cheryl Hodde writes romantic medical suspense under the pen name of Hannah Alexander, using all the input she can get from her husband, Mel, for the medical expertise. For fun she hikes and reads. Out of guilt, she rescues discarded cats. She and Mel are presently taking orders from four pampered strays.

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