"People of our time are losing the power of celebration. Instead of celebrating we seek to be amused or entertained. Celebration is an active state, an act of expressing reverence or appreciation. To be entertained is a passive state--it is to receive pleasure afforded by an amusing act or a spectacle. Celebration is a confrontation, giving attention to the transcendent meaning of one's actions."

What doesn't kill us makes us bitter. I used to believe that to be both funny and true. Years later I learned that pain could also be the touchstone for personal growth, which of course points back to the original saying, "what doesn't kill us makes us better." Not funny, but perhaps closer to the truth. Or at least the truth I choose to believe in these days. So, having recently experienced a bit of pain, am I better? Well, let's review: I think I'm fairly immune to name-calling now. I'm not sure I could have made that claim a few months ago. I've also come to see that the things I used to think were big deals, are not. Problems appear to be relative. If you have a big one, it makes all the others seem almost charming in comparison. And finally, when your life takes a path you could never have foreseen, it's humbling. In a good way. It's kind of like a friendly reminder from the universe that while you may think you have the starring role in the movie of your life, you're actually just a bit player trying to grab a quesadilla off the craft services table when no one's looking.

So, to sum up: I now have a thicker skin, I'm less likely to sweat the small stuff, and, perhaps most importantly, I have a renewed sense of humility. All in all, better. 

I saw a woman the other day. She was very pretty. Sparkly. We exchanged several awkward glances until I finally screwed up the courage to walk up to her. I fumblingly introduced myself and asked if we'd met before.

She stared at me for a few seconds, her head tilting to the side like a confused Labradoodle, then said, "I should think so. We used to date."

My eyes widened. My jaw dropped.

"Oh my god," she said, "I can't believe you don't remember!" I shrugged and said, "I'm sorry. I honestly don't."

She went on to inform me that this all happened many years ago, back when we were in college. Apparently I was the worst boyfriend she ever had and our time together was, by far, the worst year of her life.

I silently took this in.

"Well?" she said, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

I slowly shook my head and said, "No, I think you've confused me with someone else."

I then walked away very quickly .