Whaaaa?

I managed to drag myself out of my self-imposed social isolation on Saturday night. But you already knew that, didn't you? Because I did a little drunk blogging when I got home. And unless you assumed that I achieved that state of inebriation on my own (which wouldn't really be that much of a leap) you figured out that I left my apartment.

Also, I discussed attending a holiday party in my previous post.

Anyway.

Megan holds a theory that Ex Encounters can proceed in the following manner:

1) Upon contact, all of your previous romantic feelings come rushing back, usually causing "you + a bottle of something, in the person's face", yelling and attempting to deconstruct the end of the relationship. Emphasis on the yelling.

OR

2) Uncomfortable, yet insignificant. Brief conversation. Gauging for deeper feelings, finding none. Anti-climactic.

Luckily, my interaction with A on Saturday night fell into the second category. It was, in fact, so non-eventful that I'm left with a vague sense of puzzlement as to why I was so upset earlier this year. This has caused me to examine all the unecessary drama in my life as of late. I'd like to be able to leave that behind. Obviously, my next step is to track down the ARH and have a non-event with him so I can enter the new year unencumbered. Somehow, though, I don't think that this is the way it works. My closure tends to sneak up on me, despite my best efforts to control it.

PS: (and totally unrelated) I brought in cookies today for my Secret Holiday Gift Person and left them in her mailbox. She's out sick. Would it be bad to 'ungift' and eat the cookies? I can see the mailbox from my desk, and the cookies are there. Taunting me.

PS: (and somewhat related) The other fun part of Saturday night was a conversation with JP's girlfriend in which she referenced her 33rd birthday as memorable because it was the same year that Jesus died. Yes, I'm serious. No, I don't have any idea what she was talking about.