Changed my mind, at least in part. It really is true that patience solves many things. Yesterday, I had gotten so pissy about the existence of Valentine’s Day that I was nearly imploding. It’s an excuse to sell garbage, an occasion to piss and moan that you’re not getting something that you probably wouldn’t even want if it weren’t some special day whatever, and most of all the MUSIC WAS SUCKING. I mean, Barry Manilow was being blogged yesterday. Death Cab for Cutie, fine the follow song is good, but not 100x. Etc etc. I found one good song the whole night long and then was too pissy to post it. I did my best, going the let’s contemplate actual desire for a moment rather than manufactured bullshit route, and that was the most I could muster.

Buuuut. There is an upside to everything.

1 It made me turn off the computer for once I was so pissy, I just was like Slick you and me are on the outs. Which, backhandedly helped bore me to sleep a little earlier, just enough to want to run at 11 am rather than pm. Which I did, a blissful 5 miles still enjoying CIO’s ipod and S.’s Hip collection thereon, which the crappy weather has prevented me from returning (so an upside to that too.)

2 On the way home, I eyespy a 75% sale sign in my favorite little clothing store in town which I never hardly buy anything at because it’s always too expensive. Buuuut, of course, why didn’t I think of this?, there are right now hoards of clothes left unpurchased by women who wished their lovers were going to take them out or something but who knew better. I love brown, and I love Velvet, and I love them together at $12.

3 So feeling pretty good, I resign myself to a night in the big house without conjugal visitation and go to the grocery jonesin for a grilled cheese and outa bread. And I find the other remnants of romance left unfurrowed: FLOWERS. I so wish I’d gotten there in time for the sunflowers, I love those, but there were still Asiatic lilies which I love and daffodils, all for pennies a bunch. God I love flowers.

I’m still not taking down the pissy post from earlier/yesterday [update-took the pic down--snooze ya lose] the point remains that a statement of affection, of any kind, is unnerving to make, like looking at yourself in the mirror without a miracle bra, and a “special occasion” is a stupid crutch for one thing, and doesn’t happen often enough for another. Pretend every day is a day that your emotional investments in people, romantic or otherwise, were something that you had to choose again (i.e. stop being such pussies about it, shall we all?). But I guess I’ll post the song.

Ho Hummmm, The Blow – True Affections