Last Spring I received a package from Amazon in the mail. It was a pound of coffee beans and the latest CD by a well known Pop diva. I didn't order these items, yet the package was addressed to me. I figured that Amazon had made a mistake, or that maybe this was some sort of thank you gift from them for being such a good customer.
I put the coffee in the freezer, because I don't have a coffee grinder, and I listened to the CD. The record got really good reviews, so I gave it a chance. I could see why people liked it, but it really wasn't my cup of tea. Most of the music I listen to these days doesn't go much past the '70s.
The other day I saw the CD lying around and decided to listen to it again. It really held up. I decided that I actually like it, but being that I am Richy Vegas and all that, that's not all to this story.
Friday night I started to have to wrestle with the notion that maybe this attractive young Pop diva had sent me the CD because she has a crush on me. See, she might know about the legend of Richy Vegas too. I didn't sleep that night, and had to attend New Year's Eve events with no sleep.
The first event was a dinner with family members. I was really short and crabby with a family member in the car ride over to my Mom's house, because I still wrestled with whether this Pop diva would be there to be my New Year's Eve date. As I drove closer and closer to my Mom's, I took heart in the fact that I don't really bother to debunk this kind of stuff too much, because the unfolding events that I anticipate, in this case the dinner with my family, always take care of that end of it.
As I got to my Mom's, the main thought that killed this Pop diva stuff was the realization that I've been doing a really good job in aspects of my relationship with women that used to give me so many problems in the past. I've handled the challenges that women have presented me with, deliberatly and otherwise, really well these past few years.
It used to be that I would crash and burn at regular intervals with these same kinds of (unavailable) women and have to pick up the pieces afterwards. When the Big One came in 1992, that's when I first had my extreme break with reality in the form of hallucinations that I thought were recovered memories, and my attention turned from the all-to-real Jenna to the other worldly Robin.
So these past couple of days-I had a good night's sleep last night-I've just focused on how well I've coped with these challenges in recent years, and that has really dampened the intrusive thoughts about this Pop diva and all of that.
I put the coffee in the freezer, because I don't have a coffee grinder, and I listened to the CD. The record got really good reviews, so I gave it a chance. I could see why people liked it, but it really wasn't my cup of tea. Most of the music I listen to these days doesn't go much past the '70s.
The other day I saw the CD lying around and decided to listen to it again. It really held up. I decided that I actually like it, but being that I am Richy Vegas and all that, that's not all to this story.
Friday night I started to have to wrestle with the notion that maybe this attractive young Pop diva had sent me the CD because she has a crush on me. See, she might know about the legend of Richy Vegas too. I didn't sleep that night, and had to attend New Year's Eve events with no sleep.
The first event was a dinner with family members. I was really short and crabby with a family member in the car ride over to my Mom's house, because I still wrestled with whether this Pop diva would be there to be my New Year's Eve date. As I drove closer and closer to my Mom's, I took heart in the fact that I don't really bother to debunk this kind of stuff too much, because the unfolding events that I anticipate, in this case the dinner with my family, always take care of that end of it.
As I got to my Mom's, the main thought that killed this Pop diva stuff was the realization that I've been doing a really good job in aspects of my relationship with women that used to give me so many problems in the past. I've handled the challenges that women have presented me with, deliberatly and otherwise, really well these past few years.
It used to be that I would crash and burn at regular intervals with these same kinds of (unavailable) women and have to pick up the pieces afterwards. When the Big One came in 1992, that's when I first had my extreme break with reality in the form of hallucinations that I thought were recovered memories, and my attention turned from the all-to-real Jenna to the other worldly Robin.
So these past couple of days-I had a good night's sleep last night-I've just focused on how well I've coped with these challenges in recent years, and that has really dampened the intrusive thoughts about this Pop diva and all of that.
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