Sunday, 21:38pm, 8 February 2016
Hello, my friend.
Yes, I know: I hate this tendency I have of disappearing for months before realising I haven't post anything in ages, too. I've just locked myself in the habit of writing in ink and on paper again, which I find slightly more relaxing and therapeutic than typing on a digital keypad. Sorry, love, I'll work on prioritising each art again.
Hah.
So Valentine's Day coming up. Soon. The less than 168-hours kind of soon. Yay. Freaking. Yay. (That's me attempting to be sarcastic.)
For someone who's quite the romantic (the erect-a-tent-in-my-bedroom-to-create-a-romantic-nook for-two-and-get-my-sister-and-a-friend-to-wait-on-us-because-restuarants-are-such-obvious-past-times-on-this-day-and-I-want-to-do-something-refreshingly-different-even-though-he-hated-it type of romantic), I'm puzzled by my usual indifference about Valentine's. I used to be excited about it -- or at least I think I used to be, but nowadays, I'd probably forget on what day it is were it not for the stark reminders on every social media platform I'm on. Yes, LinkedIn's caught up, too [irritably rolls eyes].
Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those depressingly bitter women who dread the day because I'm not a) getting serenaded or surprised by the love of my life, b) single and miserable, or c) in a loveless and hopeless relationship; I'm indifferent because "Valentine's Day" is something I prefer doing at least once a month when I'm in a relationship. It's the rule and not the exception for me. That's not to say, though, that I wouldn't be blown away at Worthy Suitor's attempt at stealing my heart with a three-course dinner, a bouquet of red roses and a box of exquisite chocolates (we're getting as cliche as possible here) -- by all means, go ahead and let's it -- I mean, we both need to eat, and I'll appreciate it... you've just got to bring more to the table personally than a charming personality and healthy finances to win me over in the mid- and long-term.
And for real love's sake, wear something purple instead of red.
(PS: My Cupid knows all of this already, so no, iwoza-woza won't cut it.)
Hello, my friend.
Yes, I know: I hate this tendency I have of disappearing for months before realising I haven't post anything in ages, too. I've just locked myself in the habit of writing in ink and on paper again, which I find slightly more relaxing and therapeutic than typing on a digital keypad. Sorry, love, I'll work on prioritising each art again.
Hah.
So Valentine's Day coming up. Soon. The less than 168-hours kind of soon. Yay. Freaking. Yay. (That's me attempting to be sarcastic.)
For someone who's quite the romantic (the erect-a-tent-in-my-bedroom-to-create-a-romantic-nook for-two-and-get-my-sister-and-a-friend-to-wait-on-us-because-restuarants-are-such-obvious-past-times-on-this-day-and-I-want-to-do-something-refreshingly-different-even-though-he-hated-it type of romantic), I'm puzzled by my usual indifference about Valentine's. I used to be excited about it -- or at least I think I used to be, but nowadays, I'd probably forget on what day it is were it not for the stark reminders on every social media platform I'm on. Yes, LinkedIn's caught up, too [irritably rolls eyes].
Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those depressingly bitter women who dread the day because I'm not a) getting serenaded or surprised by the love of my life, b) single and miserable, or c) in a loveless and hopeless relationship; I'm indifferent because "Valentine's Day" is something I prefer doing at least once a month when I'm in a relationship. It's the rule and not the exception for me. That's not to say, though, that I wouldn't be blown away at Worthy Suitor's attempt at stealing my heart with a three-course dinner, a bouquet of red roses and a box of exquisite chocolates (we're getting as cliche as possible here) -- by all means, go ahead and let's it -- I mean, we both need to eat, and I'll appreciate it... you've just got to bring more to the table personally than a charming personality and healthy finances to win me over in the mid- and long-term.
And for real love's sake, wear something purple instead of red.
(PS: My Cupid knows all of this already, so no, iwoza-woza won't cut it.)
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