May 21st

theresa albert - my friend in food


Wait, what was my blog title again?

Brain Fart

The first thing I had to do before sitting down to write this blog about forgetfulness is to check if I’d already covered this subject in a previous posting.  Really, I honestly didn’t remember.  Sometimes I think my brain is just swiss cheese and then I realize in talking to others that I am not alone.

Here are the classic examples; see if you can relate:

- I go upstairs to get something from the bedroom but when I get there, I can’t for the life of me remember what I came up for. I stand helplessly scanning my surroundings hoping for a clue but soon realize that the only way to remember is to go back downstairs to the spot where I had the thought in the first place and hope the whole process doesn’t repeat itself.  I think this is one of nature’s little tricks for keeping me fit.

- I am watching a riveting cop show on TV but a rather obnoxious commercial comes on so I grab the remote and start surfing.  Not 60 seconds has gone by and I have no idea what I was watching nor which channel it was on.   By the time I’ve figured it out, the story’s climax has passed, the murderer has already been killed in what must have been an exciting take-down and I’m left with only the final lines of banter between the detectives.  Oh for the days when I WAS the remote, having to get up and turn the knob myself.  Then again there were only three channels; how much forgetting could I actually do?

I’d love to blame this all on aging but I now recall that I was a very distracted kid.  My mother used to chide me because I could not go a week without losing an umbrella, a lunch box, a hat or anything else that wasn’t permanently affixed to me.  Now, as an adult, my strategy involves a thorough “idiot check” before I leave any location and regular places for items I routinely misplace (keys, cellphone, sense of humour…).

I keep a pretty active brain, doing crosswords, learning new music, dabbling in new languages and yet, my synapses still appear to be eroding.  Oddly enough, the long-term memories are rich and detailed.  I can tell you the name of the sommelier who served us on our honeymoon 22 years ago but ask me what I had for lunch today and I draw a blank.   When I’m in the shower, I can’t even recall if I’ve already “rinsed, lathered and repeated”.   For all I know I keep washing my hair until the shampoo bottle is empty.

A friend suggested I try Gingko Biloba, an herbal supplement which is supposed to help with memory.  I bought some right away.   Now, if I can only remember where I put it….



Ilana Waldston is the mother of two teenage girls who keeps sane by singing. A graduate of the prestigious International Cabaret Conference at Yale, she’s been delighting Toronto audiences with her comedic patter and well-honed ability to sell a song. She’s a self-professed foodie, loves to bake, travel and dine (often all at once) who sometimes sings of food in songs such as “My Diet Starts Tomorrow”, “Dieter’s Prayer” and “Foodblooz”. In addition to her solo work, she’s also a part of Toronto’s only female jazz quartet, The Satin Dolls...


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