Morjes!

Welcome to my blog. I write about fitting in, sticking out, and missing the motherland as a serial foreigner.

You know, what's-her-name

Neither Jeremy nor I is very good at remembering names. This means that any time a third person comes up in conversation, one or the other of us always has to preface it with a long explanation of who we're talking about:

"Hmm, Yolanda. How can I explain her to you...oh, do you remember the time we were at church and Miriam hit her head on the bench, right when that lady with the big glasses got up to thank everyone for helping to paint her house, and then she almost tripped on her way back to her seat? Well, Yolanda was the one sitting in front of her."

Other times, it's put more concisely, as in:

"She's the one whose kid shared toys with Magdalena at that picnic."

It's kind of ridiculous that we keep track of these complicated vignettes more easily than someone's name, but there it is.

It's not just Jeremy and me, though. Even with other women, we all seem to have our shorthand for conveying the essence of a person in just a few choice words or a single phrase. It got me wondering - what is my "what's-her-name" name when I'm not around? If someone out of my hearing says, "You know, Bridget," I am curious how they finish the sentence, "She's the one who--".

I have some ideas:

-She's the one who always has her kids with her, no matter how inappropriate the situation.
-She's the one who is a natural birth weirdo.
-She's Jeremy's wife (what they say about Jeremy is anybody's guess).
-She's the one who plays the piano.
-She's got blondish hair, short, and I would describe her style to you except she has none.

What's your "what's-her-name" or "what's-his-name" name? Bonus: if I know you, I'll see if I can tell you yours, if I've ever had to use it.

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