ANP go bye bye into a world of laser printers and Kate’s Paperie in order to send out bridezilla’s wedding invitations.
Expect to hear nussing from me until all packages are in the mail.
Who knew that the realization of girlhood dreams would be so labor-intensive?
Speaking of labor,
no I am not preggers, TT. At the time of my posting I was
definitively celibate.
Speaking of celibate, I set fire to shit as the White Sox got creamed *sniffle* on Saturday.
- If you haven’t set a photo on fire, please do it. O, the fun when the faces of people whose toxicity you hadn’t recognized when you had bees in your head pop up like zits / Shrinky Dinks and then explode into a publicly-subsidized barbecue grill!
- % of purged that miraculously resurfaced, post-purging, via voice mail, text message, or email after having gone to the land of disappearing “men”: ~ 12 (I was warned by The Office Yogi who suggested this cord-cutting scheme that this might happen, as if the people on the other end of the cord could sense a shift in the universe. Or something.)
- % of “Hey, ANP, what’s up?” reconnection ploys that came in the form of absurdly early morning and obviously drunken text messages followed by apologetic emails sent in the “now I’m sober” afternoon “but I’ve already forgotten how to spell your name correctly even though you met all my friends and I called you my girlfriend”: 75
- # of reconnection ploys that will be returned: zero
- % of these people that I wish the best and thank for the time our lives intersected: 100
- How it feels when the burning is done: like you have taken a nice cold shower on a hot day, even if you are still standing over a sweltering grill with a fire still burning and it’s hot out. Seriously. Pretty cool stuff.
Someone asked me about mechanics of this project, or if they needed to burn everything, and to this I say: As in life, do what feels right. I think I am “special” and “unique” w/r/t the way I have historically treated my family, friends, men, and self; I needed a special and unique process for CTRL-ALT-DEL’ing my inner child.
I don’t think that this process is right for everyone, and I don’t think that everyone who would benefit from an exercise like this is at a place in their life to recognize the benefits of an exercise like this.
(ANP temporarily steps down from soapbox)
I should install the air conditioning, and yet, it’s so hot out and I don’t want my armpits to sweat whilst I install the air conditioning, seeing as they are already sweating simply from the exertion of typing (and occasionally picking my nose).
Better than following rules of dating:Being in a place where respecting boundaries and honoring
(a) people for the unique individuals they are
(b) the energy bubble that two people share
is a natural and effortless outgrowth of respecting boundaries-for-self and honoring self.
I used to work myself into such a lather with maxims such as “IF X HOURS HAVE PASSED IN BETWEEN EMAIL CORRESPONDENCE N, THEN WAIT X+Y HOURS BEFORE CRAFTING REPLY EMAIL CORRESPONDENCE N+1″ and aggressively forcing the planning of the next date (”IF N DAYS HAVE PASSED SINCE DATE N, PLAN FOR …”) and rigorously recording the date of each event & numbering which date it was.
I exist I exist I exist.
Good lord! Egads!
CLS
Now that the bees are gone, all the anxiety re: I exist I exist I exist I am loveable I am loveable I am loveable is gone too, and I’m not forcing the issue and living in Projectorville, population: me.
I suspect that rules of dating are akin to cliches.
A. Rules of dating are clung to by people who cannot otherwise establish boundaries or see themselves (or others) as anything more than a screen onto which to project the movies in their heads. They count the hours before they can hit reply to an email, or plot on their calendars when they should ask the other person out for their next date. It’s more about
the ritual and the process of dating and maintaining a warm body for the recreation of something imaginary
than
actually exploring another human being and letting onself be explored (I’m not talking about spelunking here).
Implications, of course, include but are not limited to the inability to see the other person as they reveal themselves to you, and/or a rejection of real love in favor of imaginary wuv. Authentic love freaks people like this out!!
I’m not judging; I used to be this kind of person.
B. Likewise, cliches are used by people who cannot otherwise craft writing that is fresh and unique. Instead, they must rely upon stock phrases and thus churn out trite blather.
The problem with both transgressions is that it turns us all into a buncha mediocre one-dimensional automatons.
A. Many of us are acting out roles in our lives, instead of living authentically, and we accept this play-acting as the status quo.
I love all my children equally.
Let’s exchange gifts on Valentine’s Day because it means we love each other.
Let me yell at my friend for X when really I am mad because her behavior reminds me of Y (which happened when I was eight).
B. The quality of writing is deplorable, and we all read middling words, and we say nothing in order to communicate nothing. The quality and freshness of our thinking is highly correlated with the quality and freshness of our (collective) writing.
As a society, we are on the fast track to “Hangin’ In There”-Ville, as opposed to “Imbuing Life With Meaning”-Land.
Just say no to “Hangin’ In There”!
Coney Island rocks. The Cyclone, Stars, Nathan’s, Wonder Wheel, batting cages, go karts … quality time with Dad. Good. Times.
