"If only we'd stop trying to be happy, we could have a pretty good time."
- Edith Wharton

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Some Unexpected Things

I don't like to be surprised. Surprise parties? Unthinkable. Pop quizzes? Not a fan. Look, I just like to be prepared. I like to know what's coming and formulate a response. Email is like the best thing that has ever happened to me. Phone calls? Not so much.

I am so determined to be prepared for any possible occurance that I can make myself crazy imagining all the things that could possibly happen in any given situation. As a result, I am almost never surprised.

But the past week held some unexpected events.

First, P is back. No big emotional drama or anything, he just came over last Friday and said he didn't want space any more and now we're together again. I was at least 95% sure that we were done, so this was a big surprise, though a good one. P and I are never going to have the easiest of relationships. I doubt this will be the last break. But I am glad to have him back right now.

Second, I signed up for a community college class. I spend a lot of time complaining about my current career and dreaming of what the next one might be. But I never DO anything about it. Until today. One career I've been thinking about is becoming a marriage counselor. I know, I know, I am not really so good at the whole relationship thing ... and who would take marriage advice from someone who's divorced? Still, I'm intrigued. I seem to be pretty good at giving my friends advice about their marriage problems, and since this interest has lasted more than my standard 3-6 month whims, maybe it's worth a shot. I found a part-time master's program nearby that I can apply for this winter. It requires a course in Abnormal Psychology. So I signed up for one this fall. I'll keep you posted.

Finally, Boo is wearing shorts. Uncoerced! I wasn't sure we were going to get there. He's still rocking the faux Uggs, but what can you do.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Stages of Grief, APGT-style

Oh, I know all about the Kubler-Ross model. My father died when I was 8 and my mother, bless her, dragged me in and out of therapy for a few years before she realized that I was really not getting anything out of it. I was doing well in school and had lots of friends, so I was fine. Except I wasn't. Not that that's her fault, because it isn't. It's just that for a child, having a parent die pretty much fucks you up irrevocably. Google it, it's true.

Anyway, back to grief. It sucks, no matter what you're grieving. Or might be grieving, because I still don't know for sure that P and I are over, but I'm thinking we are. And I figure the sooner I get over him, the better. Yeah, it sucks. A lot.

But here's the good news...
I have a well-tested plan for getting over breakups. It involves lots of magazines, mindless books (and/or TV shows), and bourbon. You can substitute other alcohol for the bourbon if you must, but make sure it's the good stuff. No boxed wines, vodka by the gallon, or what have you. There are two reasons for this (ok, three). One, you deserve the best right now. Two, you don't want to add to your woes by becoming an alcoholic -- I don't know about you, but I am pretty careful with my $50 bourbon (Blanton's, if you must know*). And three, it gives you unbelievable street cred to talk high-end liquor (seriously, ask a bourbon drinker whether he prefers Woodford Reserve or Basil Hayden and see what happens).

Books and magazines are up to you -- in the past, I've gone with the Cosmo/Glamour-types and romance novels, but I found that too depressing. This time I've done a variety of home and garden magazines and six seasons of "Weeds" on Netflix. "Weeds" turned out to be an excellent choice -- single mom dealing drugs, clearly things could be so much worse! I have "Mad Men" lined up next. I'm finding gardening -- previously one of my most-hated chores -- pretty therapeutic. I may not be able to sustain a healthy relationship, but perhaps I can manage roses. Or a not-embarrassing lawn. We'll see how those turn out.

Also, and this one will be a bit controversial, don't talk about it. It helps that I don't really have many friends and that the wonderful friends I do have are busy with their own lives, but I know in the past I have spend countless hours obsessing, analyzing, etc. over breakups and with exH and now with P, I haven't and it's better.

Finally, have some kids. Ideally your own, but if you don't have them already, this is probably not the time. You can't cry around kids, it really freaks them out. So being around kids means you have to pull yourself together at least for awhile. And you can't drink *too* much around them. Plus, and most important, they're funny and fun. Mine are possibly (almost definitely) insane, and they are often (usually) (always) exhausting, but they are an endless supply of hugs, kisses, cuddling, and unconditional love. Who doesn't need that?

*Aside from tasting incredible, Blanton's comes in gorgeous cut-glass bottles with tiny brass horses on the stopper. Each horse is labeled with a letter (the letters spell out the brand) and when you put them all together, they look like they're racing. I'm trying to collect the set; it gives a nice sense of purpose to my drinking.