Remember Joey McIntyre?

I do. I remember him well. Not as well as this chick, but I was pretty sweet on him. And when I look back, I think, "I'm not nearly as silly-obsessive about these things as I used to be. I'm balanced. Healthy. Wise." Yeah, right. I'm 28. Wise is at least 30 years away at best.

I know this because I've had two very humbling experiences in the last week. 1: I went to a wedding of a friend who is both younger and wiser than I. At this wedding, I fell for her brother. Her happily married brother who wouldn't remember my name today if asked. And like a 13-year-old girl, I sulked all evening because I couldn't have this perfect man. Grow up, Duchess! This kind of perspective of one's own idiocy can be painful. Blech. 2: I was inconsiderate to a friend this week. I made an assumption that completely disregarded her feelings (not on purpose! just not thinking...) and she called me on it. So now I feel like the Duchess of assholery instead of cleave. Ew.

Do you ever feel so uncomfortable with a memory you're replaying that you have to get up and move or change the song you're listening to or something? I'm in that mode right now: stagnant discomfort with self. I hate that. But I deserve it, so I guess I just have to let/make myself feel it and deal. Again, ew.

UPDATE: I wrote this earlier today and am now feeling much better. Happy to reminisce about Joey, thinking I resolved things with slighted friend, and full of a delicious belated birthday dinner. Mmmmmm.