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Listening to Alanis Morrissette. I’ve always thought she was too angry (in her angry, pre-Oprah days anyway). That she should just get over it. When someone’s a shithead to you, you don’t often get the satisfaction of making them regret it, because they’re a shithead.
This reminds me of something that came up last night at swing. Some of us were trading the-time-I-was-a-loser stories.
Personal example: I met J several years ago at a party. He was in hot pursuit from the get-go, but I wasn’t really interested. After a few parties of the same pursuit, I eventually grew to like him enough to give him my e-mail address (after all you can block a sender if he gets too annoying). As a first date we decided to join an organized day trip to Ottawa, planning to break away from the group and spend the day visiting the city together.
I show up at the bus depot a 7 am that Saturday, as understood. Not only is J not there, but one of his female friends is. She’s just as surprised to see me as I am to see her, and we quickly find out we’re both there because we’ve accepted J’s invitation to spend the day in Ottawa with him. Ah ben tabarnak.
She and I decide to go to Ottawa together, have a howling great day and stay friends. I never looked back. What’s the use?
Chill out Alanis… I’m popping in Elvis. At least “you ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog” sounds happy.