I love surprises! Have I mentioned that before? Although I’ve loved surprises since childhood (my mom could literally leave an unwrapped present in a drawer and tell me not to look and I would wait, and wait, and wait so that I didn’t spoil the surprise!), the older I get the more I realize that one reason I like them so much is because they bring a certain adrenaline rush with them. If I want to do something for someone, but just the thought of it feels exhausting, I start to tell myself (unconsciously) what a fun surprise it will be! They will be so surprised! It will be awesome . . . and surprising! Pretty soon I’m getting a little adrenaline kick and making something (sometimes ill-advised) happen (adrenaline is definitely a double-edged sword).
Neal and surprises? Not so much. It’s not that he hates them; it’s just that he would rather break his own arm than be thrust into a “surprise,” of almost any kind. Still, even before I dropped him at LAX this morning for a six-day trip, I was plotting, What could I do to surprise him upon his return? Because me and surprises, we’re unstoppable. He’s getting used to it, and working on not breaking his own arm.
But then I hit on it! One of the biggest and best surprises I could possibly give him! I resolved right then and there to get rid of these:
If you think I’m being hyperbolic about this being the best surprise ever, then you don’t know how obsessed Neal is with excising all of my sentimental clutter. These have been hanging out on the floor of our bedroom, under my watchful eye and Neal’s annoyed feet, ever since Addison went all shot-glass deathmatch on the rest of my collection. He’s begged and pleaded for me to let them go. He’s threatened to never move into a tiny house with me if these are still around. What can I say? Sometimes you just want to hang on to some of the last remnants of that adventurous twentysomething you used to be. The one that road-tripped all over the continental United States, hitting virtually every major city at least once, sometimes with people she only met online about 12 hours earlier (yeah, my parents weren’t crazy about that one either).
In my head, these glasses would make a perfect little tea party set for Addison. In reality, of course, she would eventually sever an artery (hers or someone else’s) as well as someday ask what green plant was “smokin’” in San Francisco and why everyone was so “cheer”ful in Boston.
So I’m taking a picture, memorializing them on ye olde blog, and cutting them loose.* Thanks for the good (non-alcoholic) times!
* I got this idea from the book Unclutter Your Life in One Week, which despite NOT uncluttering my life in one week (Neal said I needed to be more participatory) is full of good ideas for organizing life.