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And, if it's 43 degrees and sunny, explain to me while a reasonably intelligent women of middle years cannot for the life of her think of wearing a COAT and SOCKS on her way to work in the morning?!!
I'm weird that way. What can I say?
So last night, I staggered home and found that a small brown package had arrived on my floor via the mail slot. I carried it with me to work today and so on the bus this morning I received my first Valentine's Day gift from an LJ friend! Thanks![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stokemom! IT's PURRRRTY! And I loved the card! They're both sitting with me on my desk today and definitely cheered me up.
No VDay treats or adventures for me this year. Life is going 90mph in circles and in different directions at the moment for me, for the Enigma, for Dr Lust and even for the Mad Scientist. It's frustrating at times, and annoying, but there's not much any of us can do about it.
I was talking with the Good Doctor yesterday and mentioned that, as often is the case when I'm facing life-changing events (I consider moving and the scrabble not to be homeless as life-changing), my libido tends to go in a box under the bed and lie dormant for a while. I've noticed this habit in myself for years. It doesn't last very long, but at the time it is what I do. I probably deny myself a lot of emotional comfort by doing so, but I also feel at those times (these times) that if I divide my attention too far, everything will collapse like a house of cards. Therefore that intimate, personal, selfish, nymphomaniacal side of me gets put up on a shelf or into a box, to be dragged out later, when I have time to really enjoy "getting up to no good."
This doesn't make it easy on me, and I know it really doesn't make it easy on him. Not that he was complaining, mind you, he just wanted me to know that he noticed recently, my lack of playfulness and he's right. It was only while talking to him about it yesterday that I was able to articulate what it is I do and the reason I do this. And...I wonder if I do this because I don't think I can balance everything, or because I feel like I shouldn't? I'm not really sure. But there you have it.
I hope once this move is done and my trip to Texas is over, I can settle in and once again concentrate on having some fun. Right now, Red feels like a very dull girl.
My dislike of Valentine's Day in general goes back a long, long way. It has very little to do with the efforts of my lovers present or past. It has to do with social anxiety at tender age. In the 1960s in elementary schools across the US (and in my case, Japan) classrooms would send home a list of each child's name in the class typed out and mimeographed on a sheet. You hoped that the name was spelled right. You sat at the dining room table with a pen and a shaking hand and spelled out each person's name in the TO: field and your name in the From: field. Then seal them into an envelope and put them aside to take to class with you. Sometimes we turned them into the teacher, who then put them in the shoe boxes each of us had brought to class and decorated with pink, red, and white construction paper and glue. Sometimes, we were tasked with putting the cards in the correct box.
As usual, I fell apart during this simple task. From the caustic voice of my mother looming over me bitching about the cost of the cards, and I'd better not waste any by making spelling mistakes, to the poor penmanship (especially after she let them switch me from left-hand to right-hand in 3rd grade), to disparaging comments about the kids or the parents of certain kids. To reminding me the reason I was getting valentines cards from any of them was because we were required to give them to everyone. This squashed any excitement I had about getting a fun card from a few kids I felt were friends or whom I hoped to be friends.
The emotional pressure of all this frankly, was more then I could deal with as a child. From kindergarten in Japan until 7th grade in Texas, I was home, throwing up sick, every day that the Valentine's party at school happened. Every year, between 1966 and 1974, I woke up sick that school morning. EVERY year.
These days it doesn't make me sick, but unfortunately it does make me sit and remember those early years and that early dread. I don't know why--but it does.
Regardless, I hope everyone has a happy Valentine's Day and that friends, family and significant others are treated and treat you wonderfully!
I'm weird that way. What can I say?
So last night, I staggered home and found that a small brown package had arrived on my floor via the mail slot. I carried it with me to work today and so on the bus this morning I received my first Valentine's Day gift from an LJ friend! Thanks
stokemom! IT's PURRRRTY! And I loved the card! They're both sitting with me on my desk today and definitely cheered me up.No VDay treats or adventures for me this year. Life is going 90mph in circles and in different directions at the moment for me, for the Enigma, for Dr Lust and even for the Mad Scientist. It's frustrating at times, and annoying, but there's not much any of us can do about it.
I was talking with the Good Doctor yesterday and mentioned that, as often is the case when I'm facing life-changing events (I consider moving and the scrabble not to be homeless as life-changing), my libido tends to go in a box under the bed and lie dormant for a while. I've noticed this habit in myself for years. It doesn't last very long, but at the time it is what I do. I probably deny myself a lot of emotional comfort by doing so, but I also feel at those times (these times) that if I divide my attention too far, everything will collapse like a house of cards. Therefore that intimate, personal, selfish, nymphomaniacal side of me gets put up on a shelf or into a box, to be dragged out later, when I have time to really enjoy "getting up to no good."
This doesn't make it easy on me, and I know it really doesn't make it easy on him. Not that he was complaining, mind you, he just wanted me to know that he noticed recently, my lack of playfulness and he's right. It was only while talking to him about it yesterday that I was able to articulate what it is I do and the reason I do this. And...I wonder if I do this because I don't think I can balance everything, or because I feel like I shouldn't? I'm not really sure. But there you have it.
I hope once this move is done and my trip to Texas is over, I can settle in and once again concentrate on having some fun. Right now, Red feels like a very dull girl.
My dislike of Valentine's Day in general goes back a long, long way. It has very little to do with the efforts of my lovers present or past. It has to do with social anxiety at tender age. In the 1960s in elementary schools across the US (and in my case, Japan) classrooms would send home a list of each child's name in the class typed out and mimeographed on a sheet. You hoped that the name was spelled right. You sat at the dining room table with a pen and a shaking hand and spelled out each person's name in the TO: field and your name in the From: field. Then seal them into an envelope and put them aside to take to class with you. Sometimes we turned them into the teacher, who then put them in the shoe boxes each of us had brought to class and decorated with pink, red, and white construction paper and glue. Sometimes, we were tasked with putting the cards in the correct box.
As usual, I fell apart during this simple task. From the caustic voice of my mother looming over me bitching about the cost of the cards, and I'd better not waste any by making spelling mistakes, to the poor penmanship (especially after she let them switch me from left-hand to right-hand in 3rd grade), to disparaging comments about the kids or the parents of certain kids. To reminding me the reason I was getting valentines cards from any of them was because we were required to give them to everyone. This squashed any excitement I had about getting a fun card from a few kids I felt were friends or whom I hoped to be friends.
The emotional pressure of all this frankly, was more then I could deal with as a child. From kindergarten in Japan until 7th grade in Texas, I was home, throwing up sick, every day that the Valentine's party at school happened. Every year, between 1966 and 1974, I woke up sick that school morning. EVERY year.
These days it doesn't make me sick, but unfortunately it does make me sit and remember those early years and that early dread. I don't know why--but it does.
Regardless, I hope everyone has a happy Valentine's Day and that friends, family and significant others are treated and treat you wonderfully!
