I recently found myself in a very strange state of mind.
I, yes the great cynical I, was heartbroken.
This was quite a new emotion for me. As I hadn’t actually ever been "dumped." I suppose 26 years could be considered a good run.
So anyhow, I needed advice. It was my third day wearing the same ripped up hoodie, and faded black leggings. I’d run out of shampoo, and my hair was a greasy, stringy cigarette flavored rats nest. But such trivial things didn’t matter to me anymore. I needed help. So I went to the bookstore...and scoured the internet.
I was sure that some wise person before me had written a "self-help" book. And that I would be saved.
However all I found were the same books, with the same advice, by fat women with huge bleach blonde hair, sprayed into some overly-processed 1986 style with, what must have been, the last bottle of Aqua Net to be found on Earth. None of these women looked like they’d even been fucked in the past decade. I was drunk, scaring away little children in the Barnes and Noble with my horrible smell, and I was pissed. Is there nowhere to turn to in this great time of help?
So I went home and devised my own list of "rules."
So for all my people who have found themselves crying at 4 a.m., listening to Dido, trying to kill themselves with chocolate and nicotine, for those whose friends have long stopped answering the phone because they were tired of hearing about your sad "what does it all mean" speeches. This is for you.
Step 1: Cell Phones are Evil.
You MUST NOT call this motherfucker. Never ever ever ever ever. And you MUST NOT answer his calls. I don’t care if your mother is on fire in the living room, and the only person in the world with a fire extinguisher is him. You can not call. Let her burn.
If you give in on this first very simple step...all else will be invalid. He should have no clue that you were even thinking about him. He should think that you’re in Brazil right now having massive orgies with oiled down models. He should not be able to think "ahhh this bitch is at home crying over me right now. I knew she couldn’t live without me." Blah. Besides which, you know if you call, he’s not going to answer. So then you’ll be the one sitting waiting for him to call you BACK. Which is just a slow torturing of the soul. Don’t do it to yourself.
Step 1a: All Contact must be Killed.
No text messages. No stalking his myspace/facebook page. No driving past his house to see if he’s home. No going to sit in his favorite diner to see if he’ll walk in.
All of these things will make you look and feel pathetic. And could possibly land you with police charges.
Remember there’s nothing charming or cute about being a stalker.
Step 2: Drugs are your friends.
Forget about whatever Regan-era "say no to drugs" bullshit that’s been drilled into your head.
You will not survive without a little help from your "friends." I recommend vodka, xanex and weed. But everyone has their own little remedy. Sleeping pills are also recommended to get through those long cold nights, when you’re sitting at home and trying to convince yourself that THIS time it could work. That if you just call and talk about things..then you could go back to the old "glory days"when you were in love and happy and everything was good.
The one thing to remember, no drug use should continue past 3 days in a row. Then you become an "addict" And you’ll end up walking down the street with bloody shoes and no bra on, trying to find a dealer. Think Amy Winehouse. Besides which, too many mind-influencing additives can be counter-productive. In a state of drunkness, or highness, you might hear or see something that reminds you of him...and then you call...and then you’re back to stage 1. Best to do drugs under the influence of friends that can monitor your cell phone.
Step 3: Music will heal your soul.
I will forgive you for playing "good-bye my lover" 30 times in a row the first day. Perhaps a little Sam Cooke to ease your pain. Some deep country blues. But anymore of this self-destructive pity party shit and you’re bound to call him again. There are a ton of "my man left me and now I have no life" shit out there. I don’t recommend this.
You should only be listening to some hard core, fuck the world and everyone in it stuff. Something that will make you break windows and have sex with some overly large tattooed bouncer named Mac.
Might I suggest some N.W.A.
Step 3:: Sex please.
You’ve all heard the saying "the best way to get over the last one, is to get under the next one." I thought this was bullshit. The first date I had after my "break-up" I ended up crying halfway through in the bathroom, wondering how I would ever be able to get over him. But then..I got drunk. And I went out. And I had the best sex I’ve had in the past 2 years. And "HIM" was nowhere on my mind.
Now since I am somewhat slutty...I don’t suggest this technique for everyone. But I can assure you, that if you’re too busy having multiple orgasms, you won’t have much time to think of your ex. And there are better, low calorie things to fill your mouth besides chocolate. Sex is a work-out, a diet, and an all consuming activity guaranteed to make you forget him. Give it a try.
Step 4: Save the world.
Since you can’t possibly have sex all day every day, I suggest filling up your time with really important shit. Like going to the gym. Or buying tons of cute shit you can’t afford with your friends. God made credit for a reason. Some people might recommend "volunteering" on the weekend to some homeless shelter, or some other worthy cause.But I think making yourself ten times hotter, than when you were with him, is the best revenge. I mean really, there are enough pimple faced NYC students trying to build up their resume to help the homeless. You my dear, area fabulous,fierce, feisty feline. Focus on getting a tight ass, and a tighter red dress to match. After all, you’re back on the market now. Make sure you have a high resale price. Nobody wants to buy an old saggy sack of depression.
Step 5: You are the coolest person on this fucking Earth.
You want to go to the movies? Fucking go. You want to get a drink...get on some heels and go. You need to cum...do it yourself. There really is no reason for a man besides pro-creation. Everything else you can do yourself...or with friends.
It might suck, sitting alone in a movie theater surrounded by cute little Abercrombie couples. But just remember, 65% of marriages end in divorce. So the chances are in your favor. And while you’re enjoying your popcorn watching a movie, over half of those couples are sitting there in silent hatred of each other. Better to be alone and happy, then together and slowly dying.
Step 6: Fly Away
After you have made your way through these steps, and are starting to feel a lot better about yourself, and life in general, I suggest getting away. Now I understand that not everyone has a Kimora-like budget and can hop on a jet and fly to Bali. But a greyhound bus to Boston can work just as well. The point is to get away from your "environment." Get away from all the memories..and make some new ones. Life is all about the journey. And the hilarious stories you have to tell when you’re old and half-senile. Make sure your story is good.
Nobody in the nursing home will want to hear about how some motherfucker dumped you and you sat in your house for 8 weeks. But a nice weekend of Vegas debauchery will have those bitches in tears.
Step 7: Friends are there for more than just fashion advice.
This is the time to utilize all your friends. All those years of random chit chat about The Hills. All those shopping trips. All those good happy times. Now it’s time to get some real help from them. Some real advice. The key is, to actually listen to them. Don’t just blab on and on and on about how you feel randomly. Really listen to what they are saying to you. These people know you better than anyone else in the world. And they know what’s best for you. [sometimes] Trust that they only want to see you happy, and let them try. Don’t push anyone away.
To summarize. Don’t call. Don’t think about "it". Don’t even dream about "it." It happened and it is over. Sure there are things you could have done differently, and there are things that he could have done. And I’m sure its quite entertaining to sit alone drunk in your apartment and think of all the ways it could STILL work, if you just tried harder.
But honestly. Wouldn’t it be more fun to just let go of it. Just get all that negative shit out of your mind.And obviously that is easier said then done, and I hate to say this [because this is what all those over-the-hill fat bitches wrote in their books] but time does heal all wounds. And a few weeks from now, you’ll be wondering why you wasted one second of your life on this douche bag.
Plus, he,being a man, has already moved on. And even if he is sending you sweet little "baby baby please" text messages...best believe he will NOT be the crying, mushy,scary looking creature you are. After all he is a man. And men, above all else,care about 3 things in life. Money. Bitches. And taking over the world. With or without you.
Move on.
I, yes the great cynical I, was heartbroken.
This was quite a new emotion for me. As I hadn’t actually ever been "dumped." I suppose 26 years could be considered a good run.
So anyhow, I needed advice. It was my third day wearing the same ripped up hoodie, and faded black leggings. I’d run out of shampoo, and my hair was a greasy, stringy cigarette flavored rats nest. But such trivial things didn’t matter to me anymore. I needed help. So I went to the bookstore...and scoured the internet.
I was sure that some wise person before me had written a "self-help" book. And that I would be saved.
However all I found were the same books, with the same advice, by fat women with huge bleach blonde hair, sprayed into some overly-processed 1986 style with, what must have been, the last bottle of Aqua Net to be found on Earth. None of these women looked like they’d even been fucked in the past decade. I was drunk, scaring away little children in the Barnes and Noble with my horrible smell, and I was pissed. Is there nowhere to turn to in this great time of help?
So I went home and devised my own list of "rules."
So for all my people who have found themselves crying at 4 a.m., listening to Dido, trying to kill themselves with chocolate and nicotine, for those whose friends have long stopped answering the phone because they were tired of hearing about your sad "what does it all mean" speeches. This is for you.
Step 1: Cell Phones are Evil.
You MUST NOT call this motherfucker. Never ever ever ever ever. And you MUST NOT answer his calls. I don’t care if your mother is on fire in the living room, and the only person in the world with a fire extinguisher is him. You can not call. Let her burn.
If you give in on this first very simple step...all else will be invalid. He should have no clue that you were even thinking about him. He should think that you’re in Brazil right now having massive orgies with oiled down models. He should not be able to think "ahhh this bitch is at home crying over me right now. I knew she couldn’t live without me." Blah. Besides which, you know if you call, he’s not going to answer. So then you’ll be the one sitting waiting for him to call you BACK. Which is just a slow torturing of the soul. Don’t do it to yourself.
Step 1a: All Contact must be Killed.
No text messages. No stalking his myspace/facebook page. No driving past his house to see if he’s home. No going to sit in his favorite diner to see if he’ll walk in.
All of these things will make you look and feel pathetic. And could possibly land you with police charges.
Remember there’s nothing charming or cute about being a stalker.
Step 2: Drugs are your friends.
Forget about whatever Regan-era "say no to drugs" bullshit that’s been drilled into your head.
You will not survive without a little help from your "friends." I recommend vodka, xanex and weed. But everyone has their own little remedy. Sleeping pills are also recommended to get through those long cold nights, when you’re sitting at home and trying to convince yourself that THIS time it could work. That if you just call and talk about things..then you could go back to the old "glory days"when you were in love and happy and everything was good.
The one thing to remember, no drug use should continue past 3 days in a row. Then you become an "addict" And you’ll end up walking down the street with bloody shoes and no bra on, trying to find a dealer. Think Amy Winehouse. Besides which, too many mind-influencing additives can be counter-productive. In a state of drunkness, or highness, you might hear or see something that reminds you of him...and then you call...and then you’re back to stage 1. Best to do drugs under the influence of friends that can monitor your cell phone.
Step 3: Music will heal your soul.
I will forgive you for playing "good-bye my lover" 30 times in a row the first day. Perhaps a little Sam Cooke to ease your pain. Some deep country blues. But anymore of this self-destructive pity party shit and you’re bound to call him again. There are a ton of "my man left me and now I have no life" shit out there. I don’t recommend this.
You should only be listening to some hard core, fuck the world and everyone in it stuff. Something that will make you break windows and have sex with some overly large tattooed bouncer named Mac.
Might I suggest some N.W.A.
Step 3:: Sex please.
You’ve all heard the saying "the best way to get over the last one, is to get under the next one." I thought this was bullshit. The first date I had after my "break-up" I ended up crying halfway through in the bathroom, wondering how I would ever be able to get over him. But then..I got drunk. And I went out. And I had the best sex I’ve had in the past 2 years. And "HIM" was nowhere on my mind.
Now since I am somewhat slutty...I don’t suggest this technique for everyone. But I can assure you, that if you’re too busy having multiple orgasms, you won’t have much time to think of your ex. And there are better, low calorie things to fill your mouth besides chocolate. Sex is a work-out, a diet, and an all consuming activity guaranteed to make you forget him. Give it a try.
Step 4: Save the world.
Since you can’t possibly have sex all day every day, I suggest filling up your time with really important shit. Like going to the gym. Or buying tons of cute shit you can’t afford with your friends. God made credit for a reason. Some people might recommend "volunteering" on the weekend to some homeless shelter, or some other worthy cause.But I think making yourself ten times hotter, than when you were with him, is the best revenge. I mean really, there are enough pimple faced NYC students trying to build up their resume to help the homeless. You my dear, area fabulous,fierce, feisty feline. Focus on getting a tight ass, and a tighter red dress to match. After all, you’re back on the market now. Make sure you have a high resale price. Nobody wants to buy an old saggy sack of depression.
Step 5: You are the coolest person on this fucking Earth.
You want to go to the movies? Fucking go. You want to get a drink...get on some heels and go. You need to cum...do it yourself. There really is no reason for a man besides pro-creation. Everything else you can do yourself...or with friends.
It might suck, sitting alone in a movie theater surrounded by cute little Abercrombie couples. But just remember, 65% of marriages end in divorce. So the chances are in your favor. And while you’re enjoying your popcorn watching a movie, over half of those couples are sitting there in silent hatred of each other. Better to be alone and happy, then together and slowly dying.
Step 6: Fly Away
After you have made your way through these steps, and are starting to feel a lot better about yourself, and life in general, I suggest getting away. Now I understand that not everyone has a Kimora-like budget and can hop on a jet and fly to Bali. But a greyhound bus to Boston can work just as well. The point is to get away from your "environment." Get away from all the memories..and make some new ones. Life is all about the journey. And the hilarious stories you have to tell when you’re old and half-senile. Make sure your story is good.
Nobody in the nursing home will want to hear about how some motherfucker dumped you and you sat in your house for 8 weeks. But a nice weekend of Vegas debauchery will have those bitches in tears.
Step 7: Friends are there for more than just fashion advice.
This is the time to utilize all your friends. All those years of random chit chat about The Hills. All those shopping trips. All those good happy times. Now it’s time to get some real help from them. Some real advice. The key is, to actually listen to them. Don’t just blab on and on and on about how you feel randomly. Really listen to what they are saying to you. These people know you better than anyone else in the world. And they know what’s best for you. [sometimes] Trust that they only want to see you happy, and let them try. Don’t push anyone away.
To summarize. Don’t call. Don’t think about "it". Don’t even dream about "it." It happened and it is over. Sure there are things you could have done differently, and there are things that he could have done. And I’m sure its quite entertaining to sit alone drunk in your apartment and think of all the ways it could STILL work, if you just tried harder.
But honestly. Wouldn’t it be more fun to just let go of it. Just get all that negative shit out of your mind.And obviously that is easier said then done, and I hate to say this [because this is what all those over-the-hill fat bitches wrote in their books] but time does heal all wounds. And a few weeks from now, you’ll be wondering why you wasted one second of your life on this douche bag.
Plus, he,being a man, has already moved on. And even if he is sending you sweet little "baby baby please" text messages...best believe he will NOT be the crying, mushy,scary looking creature you are. After all he is a man. And men, above all else,care about 3 things in life. Money. Bitches. And taking over the world. With or without you.
Move on.
NOW YOU HAVE BAILED ME OUT TWICE WITHIN A MONTH....first it started with my Tuedsay morning MELTDOWN, you came to the rescue with a phone number that I will keep handy forever, and NOW the best break up advice, that no FAT woman who hasnt been F#$*ed since 89 can give....AND I BARELY KNOW WHO YOU ARE, BUT DAMN YOUR Beeeyyyooonnndddd IT!!!!
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