"My Ex-girlfriends Suck" or "Moving on to the Anger Phase"

"The denial was the analgesic with which I palliated the mistake that was us."

From "Seven Types of Ambiguity"
By Elliot Perlman


The denial phase is over. I suckered myself into it like I normally do, and ended it much the same. I'm continuing my moving on process by proceeding on to the anger phase. This typically involves listening to a lot of Ben Folds (particularly "Song for the Dumped") and contemplating ways to get my personall property back. I have a pretty good track record for getting my shit back, however this time I'm met with some pretty awkward resisitance. Every time I think I have a nice scheduled time to amicably reclaim my belongings and then snuff the bitch from my memories. No such luck. On the scheduled day I inevitably get a voice mail telling me she can't make it and she'll bring it tomorrow. This has gone on for weeks now. She's finally offered to mail me my stuff, which would be great if I think that it would happen. Among the things of mine she's "borrowed" are:

• One of my Al Franken books
• My Monty Python script book
• My hard-to-find Pavement discography
• A flash memory card reader that is actually my sister's

The only thing that keeps me from deleting her number off my cell phone is the unfortunately necessary correspondence (bitchy messages) needed to get said "shit" back. I almost think she's doing it not out of spite (although that's likely), but out of a desire to keep communication open. She's never had many people who wanted to forget she exists, which for an attention whore is is a huge blow to the ego.

Happy thoughts..... must gather happy thoughts.....

On the brighter side of things, the concert in KC was friggin' aweshum, and I had a great time with Aaron and his brother. Tonight while I was at work, one of the engineers brought her kitten for us to see. It's a cute enough kitty, but it looks like it's tail was amputated for some reason. I told Veronika, the engineer, that she should call the kitty "Nubbs". She already gave it some weird Russian name, though. That's all the happy thoughts I can think of for the moment: Kitties and concerts. Hopefully after I get my stuff back I can go back to being mellow. Staying up all night at work and drinking whole pots of coffee aren't improving that outlook, though.