This part was mostly taken care of, as I have already divested my apartment of every last painful breakup memory to the point of microinsanity. They never even thought of cigarettes anymore, they swore up and down, through their lotus-white grins.Īvailable locally for around the price of electrolysis, clinical hypnotherapy - and methodically purging my life of any unhelpful reminders of my anguish - seemed like the home version of the remedy dreamed up by Charlie Kaufman and his French felt-puppet friend, Michel Gondry. ![]() I knew several friends who’d credited hypnosis in helping them quit smoking. I’d have to kind of replicate it using regular realism, and the magic of my own idiocy. The main obstacle, of course, is that the technology is strictly magical realism. In the film, the actual procedure is vaguely analogous to having a tattoo removed. Whether you’re in the plangent throes of rejection or just light crotch-grief, the idea of erasing someone who hurt you is deeply tantalizing. “Lacuna, Inc.” (overseen in the goings-on by Tom Wilkinson, may he live FOREVER) erases all recall of your relationship and the person you were in it with, so as to make you more able to bear the southern Civil War prison that is being a human who goes on dates. It’s SO bad that they enlist a new medical technology service that selectively eliminates memory. It’s very good!), it stars Kate Winslet and Jim Carrey as a couple (stay with me, it works somehow) who have a bad breakup. If you somehow haven’t seen the film (in which case: not cool. This is the “treatment” I’ve been looking for. I was halfway through an inadvisable rewatch of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (and, yes, a pizza crust I was dipping in rye whiskey) when I realized: This is it. Mostly because all of my embraces were reserved for the pillow that had briefly still smelled of someone’s hair, until I sniffed all of the smell gone. But I did not want to embrace my sadness. Conventional wisdom is to wait for time to heal you, and in the meantime, to allow yourself to grieve. They looked happy.Īt a certain point, romantic repudiation does not feel poetic or Petrarchan - it feels physically uncomfortable and distracting, like craving fajitas while being punched in the throat. I wanted to be one of those dumb people on a fake journey. ![]() There are many wonderful, intelligent people in L.A., but you’ll often hear the other half of us, heading glassy-eyed into a studio or home office or medical spa, say stuff like “I’m working on myself!” ![]() So when I found myself having trouble getting over a series of breakups, I felt a uniquely Angelenian urge to apply some sort of … laser. Whether you are dissatisfied with your skin or your intestinal flora or your mother, a friend will have “the name of a guy” or the number of “a LIFE-CHANGING lady” for you. Southern California is a great place to live if you want to be fixed.
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