Aunt Izzie: Curing the Loss of Love
Dear Dizzie Izzie,
I am in love with a man who abandoned me. I know you must receive letters like this all the time, but I must disclose the intensity of my indefinite dolor to someone!
I was so close to this man. He enraptured and captivated my soul! Everything he did was so spectacular and splendid! Never have I felt such passion for someone. I loved him more than life itself. Every second I spent without him is a second without air. He would serenade me in the midnight hour as if he was Brad Pitt and I was a less-repulsive Sarah Jessica Parker in a movie that the two were in together. The graceful beauty of his bagpipes drifted over my skin like silk cloth, caressing and caring for me as no other had! Though I never met him personally, I know he played those pipes for me. I know he did everything for me.
And now, he cares naught for me. Months I have been deprived, bereft of my love! Each night I sit awake, alone, dreaming that I will once more hear the flowing melodies and ravishing rhythms float from Stine Lake to my ears…
Dizzie Izzie, how may I cure myself of the plague that is love?
His,
The Lover of Stine Lake
Dear Lover of Stine Lake,
If you read my column, which you clearly don’t because it’s Aunt Izzie — nobody has called me dizzy Izzie since elementary school so props for bringing that back — you would know that I don’t receive letter like this very often. Your letter (email really) was very special.
It’s clear by your use of italics that you are wounded, wounded deep. I know it’s unfortunate when an incredibly handsome celebrity moves on from an inexplicably horse-faced one (I’m just kidding Sarah, you’re still got it, Sex in the City 2 wasn’t as bad as everyone said) but I have to ask…did you ever meet this man you are ever so devoted to? It sounds like you haven’t. Move on!
I would suggest either putting an ad for “Passionate Bagpipe Player” in the student digest, or taking up the bagpipes yourself. I’m sure your roommate and the other people around you will love their graceful beauty as much as you once did.
And if the mystery bagpipe player in question is reading this — dude, run. This chick is crazy.
Yours,
Aunt Izzies
Aunt IzzieIzzie Gibson Penrose, class of 2016, has 18 years of advice to give. She loves telling people what to do (but doesn’t take offense if they don’t listen) and lives as strange a life as possible so she has plenty of anecdotes to share. Izzie also enjoys making jokes and baking cupcakes. Email her with questions, concerns, or anything LITERALLY ANYTHING that’s on your mind at gibsis01@gettysburg.edu. She promises to read every email she receives at least once, probably six times.
