All fixed!

Okay…the audio download problem has been solved.  It was some button that hadn’t been activated.  There is some technical term for it, but when Susie explained it to me, the term and description just went flying into one ear and out of the other.  It’s sort of like what happens to me when somebody tells me their name.  I know that I’m really bad at remembering names (sequencing numbers as well) so when I’m in situation where I’m meeting new people, or even old friends, when I get to the name situation, my brain starts panicking.  And then I’m cooked!  I might as well give up and go home because the harder I try to pull people’s names up out of the mushy recesses of my brain, the faster and more throughly the names elude me.  And this isn’t just treatment reserved for new names, I have been in social situations (yes…even I get invited out once in a while…) where I turn to introduce a very dear old friend of many years, and their name will just evaporate like a mouthful of smoke.  Gone!  I could tell you all sorts of details about that person, their family, their weight loss or gain struggles, their disappointments, lost dreams, sense of humor…But give you their name?  Ha. 

I wish I could be hypnotised or something to be a cracker-jack name rememberer.  Except, I’d never let myself ever be hypnotised.  The idea of placing myself into someone else’s power.  Someone I don’t even know.  To just walk in because they have a sign on their door saying they’re qualified!  No way.  Now I know this isn’t fair.  I’m sure there are wonderful hypnotists out there.  Many people I know have been able to quit smoking by being hypnotised.  I think my fear and distrust comes from my childhood.  Feeling like I had no power over myself, my body and the things that happened to me.  Actually, in all truth, that feeling followed me well into adulthood.  No, being hypnotised is not for me! 

My dear friend D___a went to a hypnotist once to get hypnotised to stop eating chocolate.  It worked too!  That is until I came into town.  Called her up, invited her to take in some theater in the West End.  This was, oh maybe 15 years ago.  I don’t remember what show we saw.  What I do remember is being so pleased that I was back in England after being sequestered in the wild wood of Whonock for months on end.  Friends, adult conversation, West End theater, and best of all…English chocolate.  Keep in mind, this was well before they started selling Maltesers and Minstrels on every street corner.  D___a went to powder her nose in the ladies room and I headed straight for the concession stand to load up.  I bought myself a huge box of Maltesers because I knew that I would not be eating alone.  D___a could sling back the chocolate with the best of them. 

I tried to wait until she returned from the ladies room, but my mouth wouldn’t let me.  I opened up the box, pulled a delicate little malt covered morsel out and laid it in my mouth.  I let it rest gently on my tongue for a while, like a secret.  Then, when the chocolate was nice and creamy soft I crunched the malt portion between my teeth so it could mingle with the chocolate.  When D___a returned I has managed to restrain myself from devouring the whole box of these wickedly delicious candies.  “Do you want some?“ I offered generously, ready to pour out a whole handful.  (That’s the thing about growing up poor, I find I always give away way more than people actually want.)  “No thank you,“ D___a demurred.  She’s just being polite I thought.  I know the deal, done it myself.  Said no when I wanted to say yes because I didn’t want people to think I was a greedy pig.  “Really, it’s okay.  I bought a big box.  There’s plenty for both of us.“ I rattled the mostly full box at her.  “Oh…It’s so tempting, but no,“ D___a said.  “Are you sure?“ I asked, worried that maybe she had a fever or something.  “I’m sure,“ she said peacefully.  “I’m trying to stop eating chocolate.“  “Why?  You aren’t overweight.“ 

I can’t remember what she said next.  I do remember her seizing my arm as I went to tuck the Maltesers into my purse.  I do remember her throwing a large portion of them down her throat all the while muttering “Oh shut up…“  I do remember later, her confessing to me that she’d paid good money to a hypnotist to stop eating chocolate.  And that she had managed to hold off for three whole months before I rolled into town.  I do remember how horrified I was that I’d unwittingly foiled her stop-eating-chocolate plan, but how I felt even worse because when she told me about it, the visit, the hypnotist putting her under, how the whole time she was throwing the chocolate back she was hearing the woman’s voice saying in a witchy, disgusted tone, “sickly…sweet...chocolate.“  I couldn’t stop laughing.  We laughed so hard that tears came.  And my poor friend, even now, to this day, 15 years later, every time she indulges in chocolate she has this woman’s voice in her head saying, “sickly… sweet…  No.  I am not a good friend to have.  Dangerous is what I am.  But I’ll tell you this right now.  I’m never, ever going to frequent a hypnotist on my own free will.

Hmm… I think it’s so funny where these blogs go.  This was just going to be a short hello to inform you that the audio downloads are now up and running.  Oh and Don says to tell you that it’s going to take around 5 minutes for the download to complete (is that the right phrase?) 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, October 03, 2007 in Chewing the Fat