Happy Valentine's Day

Is it ok to be a sap and gush a little about my Valentine's date? Just because this year is the first I've officially had a Valentine's day date? Still no? Then go away, cause I feel like gushing over how sweet my weekend with my man was!

Friday night I had a family commitment, so my romantic weekend didn't start until Saturday. I waited all morning for the dance class I would see my boyfriend at, then flirted with him across the room as leads and follows were lined up on opposite sides of the room to learn their respective parts. When the leads and follows came together again we rotated partners, so every time I got to my man I gave him hugs and kisses before we fell into practicing the moves we were learning.

The dance lessons went great (we'll see how much we remember next week...), but after four hours we were both ready for a break. I walked with him to his car to see what the surprise he told me he had was - raspberry jelly filled chocolates (either he pays attention well, or I just yum over anything with raspberry and/or chocolate that much that it's obvious). Then we went out for dinner at a cool little burrito shop, before heading back to his place and calling it an early night.

Sunday I got lots of snuggles from my man, we went to Panera for lunch, ran a few errands, and watched a movie before supper. He was brave enough to let me try cooking something new, so I made us chicken marsala, which turned out amazingly well if I do say so myself. I think he was slightly scared by my cooking method - apparently not everyone automatically needs two recipes, and doesn't follow either, to make something new!

I stayed over until Monday/Valentine's Day, and he bought me breakfast at this awesome little cafe. It wasn't the kinda place you'd think of being romantic, but it was fun and really sweet. The food was good, and you could tell they knew all the regulars. I liked the feel of the place, and I liked that it wasn't like a cliche Valentine's date spot.

The only bad part of the weekend? We both had to work Monday afternoon, so we couldn't spend the rest of Valentine's day together.

Fireworks

I cannot think of fireworks without remembering long afternoons with family waiting for the fireworks at Long's Park. Going to the fireworks is always a family affair. When we go it looks like we're packing for a week. We pack a cooler or two full of drinks, and dips, and cheese spread and chicken kabobs, bags of chips and crackers, stacks of blankets, dice games, trains, and perhaps a board game, always a deck of cards and of course books. We bring a huge canopy and stake out our claim on the hill with a tarp and blankets, but the best thing is the twenty foot bamboo pole. Every year we strap a bamboo pole to the roof of our car and then carry it into the park to mark our spot with a kite or a flag or a windsock. Then we chuckle to ourselves as we hear people saying on their cell phones "yeah, I'm by the big pole, where are you?" Course then there was the year we sat beside the sofa....

Prompt from A Writer's Book of Days: Write about fireworks.

Melancholy New Year

I want this night to be special,
to anticipate the night,
to eagerly await,
the ringing in,
of a brand new year,
and yet,
it doesn't feel right,
with melancholy shadows,
I wait,
for nothing,
what's a new year,
but another day,
another excuse,
to “celebrate,”
when I'm not in the mood,
to throw parties,
when I'd rather just chill,
and chat with some friends.


Prompt from A Writer's Book of Days: In anticipation of the night.

Vday Rant

It's Valentine's Day - A day of love and relationships. A celebration of intimacy, friendship, romance, and caring for others.

Or not.

In the past few days I've talked with a couple of different people about Valentine's Day, the commercialization of romance, and the inadequacy of candy hearts and roses in expressing true love. Instead of being about real love (in all it's forms), Valentine's Day has become another excuse to sell crap, tell people they need to be sexy, and devalue anyone who isn't in a romantic relationship.

Quite frankly I'm sick of all the mushy lets-be-romantic-because-it's-the day-of-love crap. If you want to be romantic you shouldn't need a special day for it, and, as a new friend reminded me earlier, romantic love isn't the only kind of love. Love is a good thing, but telling people they need a special day to love someone or that buying over priced candy, flowers, and jewelry is synonymous with love isn't a good thing.


"So if you love somebody better tell them so, coz you never ever ever no when they gonna go, if they love you back, just give thanks, can't keep love like money in the bank"
-Michael Franti, Life in the City

Happy New Year

As I write this it's just a few hours into 2009. I could be all nostalgic about what a great year 2008 was, or I could be all optimistic about what I'm going to do in 2009, but I'm not feeling terribly inclined to do either.

It's fun to celebrate the New Year, and growing up it was always such an exciting night, but the older I get the more I tend to wonder what we're really celebrating. Has it really been such a great year that we should celebrate? Have we really accomplished as much as we could in the year? Done as much as we should have? Lived life to the fullest, and changed the world around us? And if we're celebrating the coming year do we really think we'll accomplish everything we say we'll do?

When I was a kid my family always went to the same family's house for New Years Eve. We'd spend the evening eating shrimp and lots of munchies. The men and the kids would play with electric trains, legos, or whatever cool toys we'd get out. The women always fussed at the men to aim away from the picture windows when it came time to pop the cork on the champagne bottle.

As midnight neared we'd gather around to read last years resolutions, and write resolutions for the coming year. It was always fun to look back at what we said we'd do a year ago, but I don't think we ever accomplished most of the thing we said we'd do. We don't get to spend New Year's with the same family any more, and with that change we've fallen out of the habit of formally writing resolutions.

As I look back on 2008 I'm finding myself wondering if there are things I should have accomplished and just didn't bother to? Are there goals I could have met but didn't in the past year? It seems like the year has gone by so fast, and I don't really have much to show for it, but maybe I just expect too much of myself.... Maybe I should stop worrying about what I haven't done and be proud of what I have accomplished.

As I look ahead to the New Year part of me wants to declare out loud my goals for the year, but why bother? I know that no matter how ambitious I am about sharing goals for the year, I'm not likely to stick with or accomplish anything that I wouldn't do any way. Saying something is a New Years resolution doesn't make it any more or less realistic a goal than any other goal.

Maybe the thing I really don't like about New Years resolutions is it gives people a reason to put off working toward their goals until the New Year. When I get something in my head I want to accomplish, I tend to need to start working towards that goal in a few days, or I end up losing interest or just putting it off indefinitely. Waiting until the New Year or some other "start date" to start trying to reach a goal just doesn't work well for me. I have to accomplish as much as I can while the idea is fresh, or I get too distracted from it.

I'm sure this is rather incoherent and scatterbrained since I'm up too late to write intelligently, but I want to post it before bed anyway.... Because if I don't do it now I'm likely to get too distracted to come back to it.

Christmas Magic

Remember Christmas as a kid? The hyper excitement? Not being able to sleep, but being afraid Santa wouldn't come unless you did? Waking up and realizing it was Christmas day?

When I was a kid we were never allowed to see our gifts until Mom and Dad were up. If we woke up before they did we were allowed to go to the bathroom or each others bedrooms, but we weren't allowed in the living room or whatever room the tree was in.

My brother was always the morning person in the family, but the excitement of Christmas made it easier for me to wake up than other mornings. With whispering and creaking footsteps we'd try to sneak peaks at the tree. There was something magical about waking up knowing the tree we'd carefully decorated would be surrounded by gifts, and the stockings we'd bickered over would be filled with candy, batteries, chapstick, and assorted "little things."

As kids we didn't question the magic of Christmas, simply anticipating the day made the magic real. Somewhere along the line - perhaps when we started to see the gifts Mom and Dad slipped into shopping carts, perhaps when they in inadvertently showed us a tape of them wrapping our Christmas gifts, or perhaps just when we got too old to believe everything we were told - somewhere believing in the magic turned to pretending to believe in the magic. I've considered myself "too old" to believe in things like Santa Clause for a long time, but even in the years I declared "I know where those presents really came from!" there was something magic about seeing gifts around the tree for the first time on Christmas morning.

This year I found myself wanting to hang onto that magic.

I woke up to the smell of coffee, and the sound of my parents in the kitchen. I've never liked the taste of coffee, but I love the smell of it, and waking up to the smell of coffee always makes me think of family time. Though we're no longer banished to our room until everyone is awake, I found myself not wanting to get out of bed. Nestling in my blankets I breathed in the smell of my parents coffee, and smiled at the realization it was Christmas day. As long as I stayed in bed the anticipation made the magic real. And who doesn't want to believe in a little magic?