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May 27, 2007

TLC Advice-a-Thon: Ramona's Tips on the Bottomless Pit of Whining

TLC Advice-a-Thon: Ramona's Tips on the Bottomless Pit of Whining

By Ramona

Sometimes you have to go There. You know the place: The center of self-pity. The home of how-could-I-get-myself-into-this. The land of let-me-wallow-about-this-rejection-letter. I call it the Bottomless Pit of Whining,. If you're a writer for more than four minutes straight, at some point, you'll end up there, so you might as well be prepared.

Three Things You Need in the Bottomless Pit of Whining:

1. Emo CDs (I recommend Dashboard Confessional), DVD of Steel Magnolias or Beaches, anything written by Wally Lamb, and a Boys Don't Cry poster (album, not movie.)

2. Food. Preferably Chocolate, Mimosas, and for protein, turkey.

3. The phone number and/or e-mail of a sympathetic friend. To keep the Pit from becoming your permanent address.

Three Things You Need When You Emerge from the Bottomless Pit of Whining:

1. Beatles 1 CD, DVD of Radio Days or Galaxy Quest, anything written by a Book Tart, and a Boys Don't Cry poster. (Album, not movie.)

2. New walking shoes to work off #2 above, and because it's always cheering to go shoe shopping.

3.. The phone number and/or e-mail of your friend, so you can call and say thanks, Honey.


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What I need when emerging from the bottomless pitt is LOUD music, like James Brown's "I Feel Good" or Aretha's "Respect".
A very hot bath is also nice. SHopping for shoes and purses makes me giddy. And finally watching "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" makes me forget I was ever in the pitt in the first place.

I'm with Annette on the music.

Ramona - where is blond Bond in all of this?

Are you feeling okay?

OMG Kathy, your are right. No mention of blond Bond has me worried. She must have fallen beyond the bottom of the bottomless pit.

Blond Bond is #3, the special friend.

Okay, he's not. Come to think of it, I don't see Blond Bond anywhere. I think Harley stole him.

I think shoe shopping is like chocolate---the thing that cures just about anything.

Have I revealed before that after I had our dog put down, I got into the car and the music playing on the CD was Enya? So I now equate Enya with dog funerals---or anything really, really depressing. Suitable soundtrack, in other words, for the Bottomless Pit of Whining.

I'm always up, well not up, maybe down, for a pity party.

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