She said that she was sorry and I said...

I’ve been slightly sensitive lately. I know. Hardly shows.

As a result, more than a few clods have left Nike imprints on my heart. Cannot count the number of times these past few months I’ve had to say, “You hurt my feelings.” Without violins or Kleenex, I offer a rational explanation for why I can no longer stand the sight of them. Oftentimes I receive a half-hearted apology. My response is quick and just:

“Shove your sorries up your ass.”

Catchy, isn’t it?

That’s why Yom Kippur has me all messed up. This is my time to contact those I care about and offer sincere apologies for any harm I may have caused this year. I’ve always enjoyed this ritual because owning up to our mistakes and promising to do better is cathartic. On Monday Jews will fast and pray and ask God to forgive us, but first we must forgive each other.

Before the list of grievances comes rolling in, let’s be clear about a few things. I am not apologizing for political views or any inferiority complex you experience as a result. Name-calling is perfectly acceptable as far as I’m concerned. And I’m not sorry for being vegetarian, opinionated, or good in bed. Furthermore, cursing the Yankees, sending hate mail to Dick Cheney, or crushing on others isn't a sin. Perhaps demented and sad, but not sinful.

I haven’t hurt anyone that I’m aware of so hopefully I’ll hear responses such as, “I forgive you, sweet cheeks. And I’m sorry for anything I’ve done to harm you.” Then we kiss and make up. Preferably with tongue.

To those I know only from the online world and inappropriate chat rooms, I say this: Please forgive me for my faults. With a sad and heavy heart, I apologize for anything I’ve done that’s caused you a moment of harm. In my quest to elicit laughter or provoke introspection, I occasionally step on some toes. I will make every attempt to be a better person this year. Cross my heart three times.

There. We good?