In which Hypatia's Girl isn't smart enough to just delete the boring post. PART 1

There is literally no reason to read this post.  But I spent such a long time putting in pictures that I can't face not posting it.  I really like the pictures.

I should be doing grading, but, frankly, ugh, that sounds awful.  And the blog I'm currently obsessed with has LIED to me about updating soon, and so . . . instead I find myself alone in the apartment thinking.

I'm not even going to blog about Mel Gibson (judgment: dick) Roman Polanski (judgment: creepy child-rapist dick, AND YET PEOPLE DON'T SEEM TO THINK GIVING HIM A PASS IS IN ANY WAY PROBLEMATIC) or anything interesting like that.  Instead, I'm thinking about marriage, loneliness and personal milestones.

And yes, I'm totally qualified to blog about marriage, I KNOW SEVERAL PEOPLE WHO HAVE ENTERED INTO THAT HALLOWED TRADITION, including my parents, SOME OF WHOM I AM LEGITIMATELY HAPPY FOR (particularly the last couple to have gotten engaged! Hooray for you and the disgustingly adorable children you will someday have.  I totally approve.).

But I should probably start with the personal milestone.  This is actually problematic, because I'm not certain that it shows me in the light of a WELL-ADJUSTED, INFINITELY KIND, MAGNANIMOUS HUMAN BEING.  It totally involves an ex, and anyone who can talk about an ex without sounding the bitsiest small-minded is probably talking about an ex from middle school, which doesn't count.  Seriously.  This is an ex from THE RECENT PAST.

It was just a few weeks ago that I recognized that I'd let go of the last lingering remains of KIND OF ILLOGICAL YET IRREPRESSIBLE BURNING RAGE.  This is important, because I like to think of myself as a well-adjusted, infinitely kind, magnanimous human being and a gall-bladder full of knee-jerk meanie-pants really screws with that image.

Part of what made that moment more difficult to arrive at was the fact that we made this half-hearted attempt at REMAINING FRIENDS.  This should not ever, actually, be done.  The proper, healthy response to ex-dom is for all parties to engage in the pretense that the other member of the erstwhile relationship moved to Siberia, or died.  It's actually easier to assume that the ex died, because that way, if you both wind up at the same party you can also pretend that you saw a ghost.  This is fun.  Try it.  (Please note, that you should not engage in any ghost-hunty behaviors with your ex-ghost.  They are not actually a ghost and taking pictures/holding a tape recorder/EM measurement device up to them/trying to walk through them to see if they are corporeal WILL make you look like an asshole.)

Now, this might be me (but see the above true-facts that I am a well-adjusted, infinitely kind, magnanimous human being) but I don't do REMAINING FRIENDS with aplomb.  Hypatia's Boy and I are still on speaking terms but, then, Hypatia's Boy and I aren't not dating because one of us was a horrific douchehat, or we were both just generally incompatible, but rather we don't live in the same zip code AND BOTH HAVE SHIT TO DO WITH OUR LIVES (please remember this part, it will show up later).  But whatevs.  Hypatia's Ex and I totally tried REMAINING FRIENDS so my LETTING GO of my illogical yet irrepressible burning rage was a little hindered because generally REMAINING FRIENDS and BURNING RAGE don't combine super-well.  But, finally, I did.  Hooray for me.

And in doing so, finally, as in just now today, severed the last internet tie to the ex.  'Tis true, we're not even Last FM friends anymore.  This feels nice, because after spending almost five years dating (and omg, seriously, my mid-20s.  I totally could have gotten all sorts of laid), extricating your internet life from the ex's life takes fucking forever.  Google Buzz makes you follow each other, you have enough friends on the Facebook that when they comment on the ex's status update YOU see it, which makes you feel like a freaky stalker, because you really didn't want to know whatever the update was about, but now you know that the ex's new partner is finally working full time.  And that's a piece of trivia that will never win you any pie pieces in Trivial Pursuit, and so is totally unnecessary.

But anyway, I'm pretty certain that I've rooted out the last part of the unintentional overlap.

Happy Hamster Party Cake for Me!

Any rate - this lends some clarity to the past and, combined with the relationship-status-change twixt Hypatia's Boy and I, makes me think about LOVE and INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS.  You add moving across the country and the evil demons of procrastination, and then BAM next thing you know I'm google-image-ing "burning bridges" and blogging.  I am a successful human being.

Sort of.

See, part of LETTING GO OF THE PAST is that weird inventory that takes place where you attempt to divide up the blame for EVERYTHING THAT WENT WRONG EVER and assess WHAT LESSONS WERE LEARNED.  Only now, instead of lumping all blame onto the other person and the lesson learned being: DON'T DATE PEOPLE NAMED HYPATIA'S EX, there's a lot more blame on your plate and more complex lessons to be learned.  And one of the ones I might have learned is: I'M NOT REALLY THE RIGHT SORT OF PERSON FOR LONG-TERM ROMANTIC HUMAN COMPANIONSHIP.  Which might not be as sad as it sounds.

See, I am arrogant and a little obsessive.  I'm kind of self-centered, I definitely have delusions of grandeur.  Interestingly, in the right combination, these supposed personality flaws will likely help me be a philosopher.  And that's what I love.  I love philosophy.  Philosophy is my job and one day, if I'm very very good, other people, people who I do not know, will read my philosophy.  And absolutely nothing will get in my way to achieve that end.  That's why Hypatia's Boy and I aren't dating.  And, I'm pretty certain that's a good chunk of what slaughtered the relationship with Hypatia's Ex too.

And there are two different approaches a person can take to the realization that ZOMG I'm probably filled with personality flaws.  A. Try to change those flaws.  B. Find a way to incorporate those flaws into your life and become inordinately proud of them.

I tried both.  Doing the first leads me to refer to my actions in the relationship in a way that makes me feel like Bella.  From Twilight.  It makes me make Twilight references.  Kind of unironically.  Doing the latter leads to dating other people who HAVE SHIT TO DO, which, unfortunately, leads to them DOING THE SHIT THEY HAVE TO DO.

This post is already way too long, and I haven't even gotten to the part where I talk about how I feel like this is an unfair problem that women face more often then men.  Nor have I alienated like half of my friends by ranting about how hard I judge when women change their last names when they get married.  FOR FUCK'S SAKE, IT'S 2010 - WE KNOW BETTER.  That will have to be a part two.

UPDATE: PART TWO IS HERE