The Five Stages of Robsession

Sparklepants (um, best name ever) has done some research for us on the 5 stages of Robsession…

Dear Rob,

I’m a huge fan of the site LTR and their “mission” [UC Note: You can call us missionaries from  now on]. It’s been nice to find a place where I can enjoy my Robsession out in the open. (Okay, well in a small browser on my desktop behind an excel spreadsheet, but you get the point). I realized that, as a sane person, I am conflicted. There’s my inner tween squealing with fangirly delight toting her Team Edward backpack around. And then there’s independent strong woman who dates serious guys, like guys with jobs in finance. What happened to me? It was then I realized that the Kubler-Ross model is not the 5 stages of death, but rather the 5 stages of Robsession. Get on the couch, grab your Snuggie and read on.

Stage 1: Denial…It ain’t just a river in Egypt.

"So you're saying there's a chance"

I denied my addiction at first . Well, it’s wasn’t a full-blown addiction at first, but denial is the the first rung on the downward spiral that leaves you up at 2am, suckling at your Details magazine in the dark, drinking Chardonnay out of a box Googling, “rob pattinson girlfriend” to ensure you’re single, cause then I have a chance. I was a powder blue tux away from being Jim Carey in ‘Dumb and Dumber’. In some small part of my brain, where reading too much fan porn fiction had rotted away my sanity, I believed we were going to meet, fall in love and have sparkly, bouffanted babies. Cue Wayne’s World dream sequence….bloodeedebloooboo…..We’re in the frozen foods section of the grocery store. We both reach for the same box of Pepperoni & Sausage Hot Pockets and BAM. Fireworks.

Stage 2: Anger

So why are we not together Rob? We could be rummaging through the dollar bin at Goodwill right now. I’ve spent so much time investing in our relationship that I barely see my friends anymore and I’m on the verge of losing my job. I’ve even taken up smoking. I’ve made so many sacrifices for you. And how do you repay me? By cavorting with nude models and mullets? And then profess your immortal love for…your dog? That’s my competition? What’s the hold up Rob? Allergic shmergic. Take some Claritin, lace up the Nike’s and get your (*hackingcough*) ass over here. Now.

Stage 3: Bargaining

"So I've got you for down Tuesdays and Thursdays. KStew on Fridays and Wednesdays...waittaminute, where's TomStu?"

Okay, okay. So I get it, I’m not going to run into you at my local Piggly Wiggly. I mean you have Dean/Steve to satiate your all your Hot Pockets desires. Fine. And so what I’m a little older…not Betty White old, just more…mature (read: experienced). Maybe Alice won’t throw us a fairy tale wedding replete with white gardenias but I still think we could have mindblowing sex a blast together. I don’t need forever…just some shits and giggles over a few Heinekens. Blast some Clare de Lune, make some prank calls to Cougar Cathy. That’s all. See I’m not greedy. I can share.

Step 4: Depression

We’re not getting married. We’re not having bouffant babies. We’re not friends. Heck, you don’t even know I exist. I just wanna crawl under the covers and not shower or wash my hair for days, even weeks on end…but (sigh) that only reminds me more of you. I don’t even care. What’s the point of life without you? Nothing makes me happy. Not Press Rob, all curled up on a chair in the fetal position, fondling a microphone. Not Plaid Rob, or 8-Layers of Shirts Rob. Or even Underwearless Oscar Rob…okay, wait that still makes me happy.

Step 5: Acceptance

"It took all the strength I had not to fall apart. Kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart."

Fine. I’m merely one of the hundreds of millions of females on the planet who live under the same crazy psychotic one-step-away-from-the-looney-bin pretense that you’re attainable. That you’re “one of us”. But regular people don’t have 759,427 blogs and websites dedicated to them. Not just dedicated, but DEDICATED. Like fly-around-the-world-to-get-a-glimpse-of-the-back-of-your-head dedicated. How do I compete with that? I was better off when it was just Patti. So Rob, I concede. We gave it a go, but obviously there are just too many obstacles keeping us apart. The not-knowing-I-exist is a pretty big one. I just don’t see how we can move past that. I’m sorry Rob…it’s over. That is unless I end up getting tickets to a premiere and we happen to be at the popcorn stand reaching for the same bag of Sour Patch Kids….(and now back to Stage 1…)

You had me at “Cheeseburger”.

– Sparklepants

This is pretty much my daily inner-monologue. I just thought if there was one person out there that I could help this would be worth it.

Thanks Sparklepants, it WAS worth it. Now, which stage are YOU in? Still think you’re gonna tap that someday? Depressed that you never will? I am working on a letter with the stage I am in, so you’ll just have to wait 🙂

So…. Rob is in a new movie. Have you heard? Did you buy your tickets yet? You can buy them in advance on Fandango.

Anndddddd there’s a campaign going around to make Saturday March 13th, “Remember Me Saturday.” The idea is to go back and see the movie again (assuming you’re seeing it Friday night) and bring your family and friends- yes, even your grandpa. Having trouble getting the man in your life to give a crap about this movie? How about printing a picture out of Emile De Ravin, who has been looking smokin’ lately, and telling him that he’ll get to see her in some sex scenes? Oh, and make sure NOT to mention that Rob is in the movie. Then he’ll probably go with you for sure! Check out the Remember Me Saturday website for more details

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