mem-o-ry: (noun) the mental capacity or faculty of retaining and reviving facts, events, impressions, etc., or of recalling or recognizing previous experiences.
It's strange how some random and irrelevant tidbits of the past can stick with a person, while major things can go completely unretained.
When I was in grade seven, my mom bought me a Stephen King book for Christmas. This started a four-year run of reading all things King but also spilled over into other horror writers, including Dean Koontz and Peter Straub. There was one book I read that I cannot remember the title of and I believe was written by Peter Straub but I can't be sure...but what I do remember is that one of the bad guys in whatever was going on had pores the size of the head of a matchstick.
Why do I remember this? No idea. Why can't I remember, say, my professor's explanation of The Wizard of Oz and how it represented the American economy at the time it was written? I really do wish I could remember that because it was cool.
I can also remember my phone number from when I was six. The last four digits were very close to the number for the doctors' offices main reception in my hometown, so people kept calling for their doctor. For that reason, I also remember the phone number for those offices.
But no matter how many times I bake chocolate chip cookies, I can't remember the recipe.