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...over-educated and under-experienced, or so they say...

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Welcome Back, Pandora

So... I retired Pandora in May but, like an athlete that just can't give up the game, it's time for a resurrection, it's time for Pandora to get back in the game.

You see, I (or Pandora, if you will) fell in love not too long ago. I had this moment in time where some of the rougher edges were rounded out, where some of the jaded self was giving way to something softer and lighter, something that seemed a bit more sound, something that seemed a bit more like hope personified. So I retired her thinking that her time to shine had come and gone. Pandora was born from some of life's darkest moments and her wit and her strength became a way to put life into perspective, to put a sarcastic and humorous slant on some of life's more irksome and frustrating moments, to put sorrow in its artistic place, to put grace in some sort of waltz with words, and make life that much more of a journey, a test of strength and a trial of growth in print. Given the fact that everything seemed to be changing, evolving into something new, some sort of uncharted territory, I had this thought that I would create a new persona to embody the change to come. I was getting married. Pandora wasn't one to get married, or at least that was my thought at the time. Ironically enough, I didn't get married. I had created a new persona, set up a new blog that I think I posted two pathetic pieces to that I wouldn't even consider worth reading, I decided the only way to move forward was to bring Pandora back.

So... why? Why bring Pandora back? Well, because only Pandora would fall in love with an idiot that could dump her via text message on his way to the dumpster six days before the wedding. Only Pandora could stand there staring at her phone saying something like, "Is this a fucking joke?! Did you seriously just dump my ass via text message on the way to the fucking dumpster while I'm standing up here waiting for you to come back for a night swim?!" Only Pandora would have the balls to call up the jack ass and say, "Fuck you, you chicken shit! I'm driving out to your house and you're going to say this to my fucking face, you ass hole!" Only Pandora would have the courage to drive out to his house, walk into the darkness and turn on all the lights to find him hiding under some blankets on the couch and say, "Fuck you, you're not sleeping! I was only ten minutes behind you! Get your chicken shit ass up and tell me to my face that you can't do this!" And when the coward punk with some serious issues sits up and says, "Pandora... I can't do this," only Pandora would have enough fire to throw her ring at him and say, "Fuck you! Go get your fucking check book and write me a check for $2000 because I spent all my money on stupid wedding bull shit and now my lease is up and I have to find a place to live! You go get your damn check book and you write me that check right now!" And only Pandora would drive home after raving and ranting and trying very hard not to rip his face off thinking about the symbolism of being dumped with the garbage at the dumpster. And only Pandora would have the strength to make some kind of humorous joke out of this whole mess. And only Pandora would sit on her patio and remember a stupid line from a stupid Alanis Morissette song about Irony that said, "it's when you meet the man of your dreams and then you meet his beautiful wife." And only Pandora would say, "Um... no, Alanis honey, you've got it all wrong. Irony is when you meet the man of your dreams and then you meet his three cupboards full of disgusting Tupperware that looks like it might grow legs and walk away, and his boxes of pots and pans from World War II that he got as cast off gifts from his grandmother, and his six drawers of socks, and his closet full of clothes that he's been hording from the last 17 years of his life only to get dumped at the dumpster via text message because you dared view them as junk and throw them away."

Isn't it ironic... You meet the man of your dreams and then you meet his Glad Lock containers...

Only Pandora... Queen of Stalkers and Freakishly Strange Experiences that should only happen in B Rated Romance Films.

Only Pandora...

And so, I can take the silence no more. Writing makes me happy, writing keeps me sane and makes me whole, and ever since this happened it's been difficult to find my voice so...

Welcome back, Pandora. I've missed you.

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