RN: I find myself in an uncharacteristically forgiving mood. You should follow my example. It's awfully liberating.

CP: Who, me? I have moved right past forgive -- to forget.

RN: Oh, please, this is me you're talking to. Anyway, here's a for-instance: I forgive the city of Minneapolis for plowing under Lawrence Halprin's brilliant Nicollet Mall and replacing it with the dull, semi-suburban version we live with today. Look at that. I feel so much better.

CP: Wow. For someone as Mall-centric as you, that is major. And I forgive Helena Bonham Carter for her many terrible awards-show outfits.

RN: I extend forgiveness to the Tony Awards for not recognizing the brilliance that was Stockard Channing in "Six Degrees of Separation." And to the Oscars for robbing Jake Gyllenhaal of a statuette for "Brokeback Mountain." OK, I'm still bitter about that last one.

CP: Dear Mr. Lewis, You turned me into a lifelong math dunce and innumerate by being perhaps the worst teacher ever. But I have developed other strengths, such as being quite a good whistler. And I realize now that I was a big part of the problem in 10th grade, so I am moving on.

RN: I'm only feeling happy thoughts toward the landlord who kept the bulk of my security deposit because I had the audacity to paint the living room of my apartment a restorative shade of pumpkin.

CP: This is so cathartic! I am giving all the jerks who've ever dumped me a big bear hug of forbearance. I can only hope for some vicey-versey.

RN: Generous of you. I'm not willing to go there yet. Oh, what the heck. Done. And while I'm at it, to the thieving crack whore who stole my bike -- when it was my sole mode of transportation and I didn't have enough in my checking account for bus fare, let alone a Schwinn -- here's to a happy life.

CP: You go too far there, Mister. Bike theft is right down there with stealing shoes at a yoga studio.

RN: On that note, I'm finally letting go of my despair regarding Kat, the first yoga teacher I ever really connected with, for leaving our gym, and our lives. Namaste.

CP: She was great, but there is no forgiving those bad poems she sometimes read to us during practice.

RN: Some of them were eye-rollers, although they were a reflection of the beautiful inside that matched her beautiful outside. I'm kind of turning my own stomach here. But you know what? I'm going to forgive myself.

CP: I forgive you, too. For everything.

RN: Thanks, I think. Oh, and to the departing Neiman Marcus, I say, no hard feelings. I'll miss you. Godspeed.

CP: Let's not overdo it here. Not when the departing retailer cancels my opportunity to ogle high-end shoes on my lunch hour.

RN: Yeah, it's strictly look but don't touch at Neimanmarcus.com.

Email: witheringglance@startribune.com Twitter: @claudepeck and @RickNelsonStrib