Here is the thing with Therapists: You have to like them, to want to talk to them, and to feel like all the information you are spewing isn’t going into a big black hole.
I don’t think I will ever be best friends with mine (thought I would want to be, are there rules against that?), but I leave there after ever session feeling recharged, rejuvenated and armed with realizations and tools to truly make my own life better each day.
When you find a good one, they are life-changing. When you have the wrong one, it feels unsettling, like you lost the last piece of a 500 piece puzzle.
What I watch when I am feeling broken-hearted, lonely, bored or they are better on TBS.
- Sex and the City
- The Proposal
- Going the Distance
- He’s Just Not That Into You
- Notting Hill
Better on TBS:
- The Notebook
- Maid in Manhattan
- The Wedding Planner
- Runaway Bride
- How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
- The Rookie
- What a Girl Wants
- 10 Things I Hate About You
- The Prince & Me
- Now and Then
I can’t watch people making out. Or kissing. Or having sex. At all really. So I don’t do so hot watching the Bachelorette.
Me and you eighty-year old grandma just can’t seem to stomach it.
I am taking a CPR class through the Red Cross. And bless the Red Cross for educating America on CPR and First Aid. But, lordy, are some people dumb.
There I was (naively) thinking that graduating college signified the last time I would ever have to listen to someone raise their hand in class, only to comment and repeat exactly what the professor said.
“I’m sorry. Did you have a question?”
“Then put your gosh-darn hand down!”
And leave it to Mister Comment Man to be the only one in the whole stinking class to not GET IT at the end of the 4 hours. Too busy formulating his comments and anecdotes in his pea-brained head to listen to the instuctions.
3 seconds, then breathe, idiot.
Dear Mister Comment Man,
Please do not be within a 50 mile radius of me, in the off chance that I require CPR. I will take my chances on the woman that mistakenly sat in the CPR class instead of the First Aid class for 15 WHOLE minutes, despite the teacher indicating which class this was three times, and her name NOT being on the roster.
Fearfully weary of the general public
I feel like I have my friends back. And for the first time, I felt like I am not the only one that sounds ridiculous when you get dumped.
That’s the thing though, about being dumped, or left, or brokenhearted, you get a free pass (or 15). You get a free pass to cry in a crowded restaurant, to commandeer the conversation with stories about how great things were.
You get a free pass to eat ice cream on the couch, to not save face, over and over again. You get a free pass to expect ridiculous things from someone you know better than anyone else, from someone you know would never do those things .You get a free pass for all of those hopeful thoughts.
You get a free pass and you dont really have to use them wisely, but rather, irrattionaly.
You get a free pass for all of the time you invested and for all of the love you gave. You get 15 free passes for all of the hurt that you never thought you would be in.
And you get a free pass for figuring out your life, because right now you dont really need to. Just figure out yourself.
And just know that for all of those free passes, one day, you will be done and you will have realized that you moved on.
Just don’t hold your breath.
I have a bone to pick with mothers in general. More importantly, I have a bone to pick with people that think that their mother did it best. Their mom’s way is the only way to load the dishwasher or make spaghetti. The only way to grill a hamburger or the right way to bleach a sink.
DID YOU NEVER STOP TO THINK FOR A SECOND THAT THE WAY YOUR MOM DID IT MAKES NO SENSE?
Everyone does things differently, and one person’s mom isn’t going to be the best at everything. Sure, she might grow the best tomatoes, but her sense of style sucks. So when you say that you do it that way, because your mom does, know that I am going to be looking for ways to do it better. We like the way our mom’s do things because it is the only way we know how. So don’t get mad at me or assume I am doing it wrong, because my way doesn’t match yours. You can’t annoyed at me or take over, because your mom isn’t here.
I love my mom. She does some things very well. But she isn’t good at everything and I feel like you thinking your mom is, is a smidge naive on your part.
Simple as that. And don’t even get me started on your Dad.