insomnia blogging
yeeeeaaahhh, this usually gets me in trouble, but I'm itching to yammer and my roommates are in bed and I need to garble some stuff out.
I have had so many bad v-days, and not the bitter single kind- those actually aren't so bad. It's the ones where someone has tried to outdo themselves and f-ed up or the ones that I had unabashedly expected mere amazement and was sorely disappointed (yeah, I was young then) that turn out crappy. It's the prom theory. I didn't have a magical princess prom night. My Junior prom was with a friend I had no intention of asking in the first place and some nosey old lady decided that we were in love and put us on the spot. He was a sophomore (and thusly only able to go by invitation) and I was trapped- therefore I had a date. I really liked this guy as a friend, but it was one of the single most awkward nights of my life. It ended with him asking if he could leave with someone else and me standing my ground and making him miserably come to MY party with ME and then I drove him home when I felt bad for seeing him mope around. Then my Senior year, my boyfriend got drunk too fast, managed to cut himself on something and bleed all over my self-made ice blue prom dress and we had our amazing after party in my friend's dark apartment while boyfriend laid sprawled out on the floor passed out.
We build ourselves up to think these things are going to be utterly wonderful, Disney princess moments and sometimes they become too out of reach for anything to touch how awesome we want them to be and often that seems to result in the exact opposite reaction.
So, after saying all of that, I want a princess prom night. I want to dress up in a beautiful dress and shave my legs and put on makeup and do amazing swirly things to my hair and walk confidently into a room full of people who, of course, think I'm gorgeous and look into the eyes of someone who would gladly carry me over a mud puddle. I just icked myself out a little with the ooey gooeyness of that.
So here I am on the eve (because it is always the eve until I go to bed- birthday rule) of Valentine's Day doing what I always swear I won't do and don't do. I am wanting a Valentine. Just someone who thinks I'm pretty, ya know? I miss the simplicity of high school when a single carnation with a broken stem and a tag that says "Happy Valentine's Day from Kiwanas Club" could make a girl's heart pound wildly. I miss finding little silly ways to slip reminders to each other- written on a straw wrapper and shoved in a pocket, wearing a string around my wrist till I was sure it was going to give me some infection because it came off of frayed jeans of my lunch buddy, reading a book together over the phone because it was way past curfew and we were supposed to be studying... I'm such a romantic and I have so many great ideas and fun things that I have never had the opportunity to do on Valentine's Day. Then I hear folks who HAVE a valentine say things like "I hate it. It's a Hallmark excuse to do things you should be doing every day anyways" and "It's just a way for the candy industry to make more money" and "there's no way you can ever live up to expectations so why try". These folks I want to punch in the nose. Yes, you should be expressing love every day. You should also celebrate your life on earth every day too, but you don't have a problem making a big deal about your birthday. You should celebrate the birth of Christ every day, but Christmas titillates you all the same. So why is Valentine's Day such a beast and burden? I don't get it.
I think I've talked myself in a big "U" here- I do like Valentine's Day. I also feel sad this year. It is in some way connected to being single again and I will be rocking the V-Day with my married roommates because they love me enough to pity me. Or they just didn't bother making plans, but all the same, I imagine some Rock Band will ensue. I am mostly sad, though, because I have so much love that I wanna give out in so many creative and fun ways, and I have no outlet for it. So, it's not a woe is me I'm single cry, it's a I wanna love on you so come here cry, if that makes sense...
I haven't had a good babble on here in a while, I should probably put all this in a cut...
I went to the chiropractor today: retrolisthesis in the Sacrum. Basically, I'm outta line. Go Figure.
I have had so many bad v-days, and not the bitter single kind- those actually aren't so bad. It's the ones where someone has tried to outdo themselves and f-ed up or the ones that I had unabashedly expected mere amazement and was sorely disappointed (yeah, I was young then) that turn out crappy. It's the prom theory. I didn't have a magical princess prom night. My Junior prom was with a friend I had no intention of asking in the first place and some nosey old lady decided that we were in love and put us on the spot. He was a sophomore (and thusly only able to go by invitation) and I was trapped- therefore I had a date. I really liked this guy as a friend, but it was one of the single most awkward nights of my life. It ended with him asking if he could leave with someone else and me standing my ground and making him miserably come to MY party with ME and then I drove him home when I felt bad for seeing him mope around. Then my Senior year, my boyfriend got drunk too fast, managed to cut himself on something and bleed all over my self-made ice blue prom dress and we had our amazing after party in my friend's dark apartment while boyfriend laid sprawled out on the floor passed out.
We build ourselves up to think these things are going to be utterly wonderful, Disney princess moments and sometimes they become too out of reach for anything to touch how awesome we want them to be and often that seems to result in the exact opposite reaction.
So, after saying all of that, I want a princess prom night. I want to dress up in a beautiful dress and shave my legs and put on makeup and do amazing swirly things to my hair and walk confidently into a room full of people who, of course, think I'm gorgeous and look into the eyes of someone who would gladly carry me over a mud puddle. I just icked myself out a little with the ooey gooeyness of that.
So here I am on the eve (because it is always the eve until I go to bed- birthday rule) of Valentine's Day doing what I always swear I won't do and don't do. I am wanting a Valentine. Just someone who thinks I'm pretty, ya know? I miss the simplicity of high school when a single carnation with a broken stem and a tag that says "Happy Valentine's Day from Kiwanas Club" could make a girl's heart pound wildly. I miss finding little silly ways to slip reminders to each other- written on a straw wrapper and shoved in a pocket, wearing a string around my wrist till I was sure it was going to give me some infection because it came off of frayed jeans of my lunch buddy, reading a book together over the phone because it was way past curfew and we were supposed to be studying... I'm such a romantic and I have so many great ideas and fun things that I have never had the opportunity to do on Valentine's Day. Then I hear folks who HAVE a valentine say things like "I hate it. It's a Hallmark excuse to do things you should be doing every day anyways" and "It's just a way for the candy industry to make more money" and "there's no way you can ever live up to expectations so why try". These folks I want to punch in the nose. Yes, you should be expressing love every day. You should also celebrate your life on earth every day too, but you don't have a problem making a big deal about your birthday. You should celebrate the birth of Christ every day, but Christmas titillates you all the same. So why is Valentine's Day such a beast and burden? I don't get it.
I think I've talked myself in a big "U" here- I do like Valentine's Day. I also feel sad this year. It is in some way connected to being single again and I will be rocking the V-Day with my married roommates because they love me enough to pity me. Or they just didn't bother making plans, but all the same, I imagine some Rock Band will ensue. I am mostly sad, though, because I have so much love that I wanna give out in so many creative and fun ways, and I have no outlet for it. So, it's not a woe is me I'm single cry, it's a I wanna love on you so come here cry, if that makes sense...
I haven't had a good babble on here in a while, I should probably put all this in a cut...
I went to the chiropractor today: retrolisthesis in the Sacrum. Basically, I'm outta line. Go Figure.