This post on Grist keeps flashing into my mind and making my body do a mini-earthquake-gross-out dance.
DO YOU SEE THAT?
DO YOU FREAKING SEE THAT
BRIGHT RED BODY CAVITY OF HORROR?
It's a rock with guts, guys, and people eat it. A rock with guts that is so ancient and crazy weird that it basically reproduces by having sex with itself and people eat it in stew. And it's clear blood contains ridiculous quantities of vanadium, which is rare or something--read the article for yourself--and it tastes like soap, apparently, AND STILL PEOPLE EAT IT OVER RICE.
Okay. Okay, I just....my brain....my body....I just....it's all....I feel both acutely claustrophobic and strangely wondrously alive and amazed by nature all at the same time.
I'd also like to point out--for the Jesus folk out there--that all of the references to Christ as "the rock" (Deut 32:4, 2 Sam. 22:2-3, Matt. 7:25, Acts 4:10-11, 1 Cor. 10:1-4) MEAN SOMETHING COMPLETELY NEW AND UNHOLY NOW. A new meaning that I don't want to take the time to analyze because I do not have the capacity to experience all of the feels.
She knows just how I want to spend my Valentines Day. We had the best time together.
1. My girlfriend knows that I absolutely abhor being late to work, so she went to bed early AND made sure she was up on time to get me to work 5 minutes early at 4:40 a.m. We're still working on the whole "get all the way ready...including makeup" bit, but otherwise, she set me up for a successful day.
2. My girlfriend knows that I have a dark side/vengeful side, so she didn't even consider trying to stop me as I fantasized about all the ways I would get revenge on 2 separate exes throughout my 6-hour shift.We came to the agreement that I would not *actually* exact revenge, even though it was ingeniously creative and of the harmless "kill 'em with kindness" variety...on account of the fact that revenge of any sort would categorize me as the crazy ex. We couldn't agree on which motto to stick with: dignity is always more satisfying than revenge OR success is the best revenge--either way I just gotta keep. being. awesome.
2. My girlfriend knows that I love feeling accomplished, even in routine tasks (I merchandize for Old Navy...oi), so she gave me my space as I busted my butt to finish my displays. She congratulated me on a job well done as my boss and I discussed how I've improved over the course of the past month.
3. My girlfriend knows how much I love to flirt, so she didn't even get
jealous when I sent flirty text messages to a couple choice beaus on my
lunch break.
4. My girlfriend knows I have an impish curiosity regarding that which seem gross/uncouth/weird, so she caved and bought me Lay's Chicken n' Waffles flavored potato chips along with another indulgent favorite: SoBe cranberry grapefruit juice. We were delighted to find that the weirdy-weirdy-pants chips tasted of syrup and a hint of regret, but not loneliness.
5. My girlfriend knows that the most satisfying time of the day is nakie time, so we spend a couple hours traipsing about the house in our loveliest underwear and scrolling through facey and tumblr, all punctuated by bites of leftover Thai. She really is the best.
6. My girlfriend knows I LOVE Cocorosie, so we got all giddy together over their forthcoming album, Tales of a Grass Widow. Happy, happy, happy.
7. I want to give a second shout out to #5.
8. We watched this:
...............cannot be unseen.
(but it is SO WORTH all 8 minutes. My favorite part: 5:48-6:05 and 6:53-7:10. SO MUCH YES.)
Also, let's face it--there's a good chance this could be me in 40 years. I've accepted it. My girlfriend's accepted it. Accept it, guys.
9. My girlfriend knows how important my friends are to me, so we sent Valentines to some of mah peeps, either via text or interwebs (she didn't even suggest trying to actually mail something because she also knows I'm a lost cause in that department).
10. We seriously considered making this but then seriously considered the consequences:
11. My girlfriend knows how much I love poetry, so we went to a poetry slam and open mic-ed it up.
12. My girlfriend knows I'm a sucker for making new friends, so we met some new people and felt wild and young for the first time in a while.
13. My girlfriend bought me flowers. FOR 50% OFF, NO LESS!!! She loves me and I. love. her.
In conclusion, I'd say Valentine's Day was a smashing success. I was truly happy all the day long.
In the book of my life, 2012 is a chapter marked by dating wins and fails, ridiculous makeout stories, hard lessons regarding the value of breaking up with a guy simply because your gut tells you to, and the most important discovery of all:
I ammy own girlfriend.
If your mind is in the gutter, get it out now. This is not a weird Narcissus situation. It's just the most concrete, tangible way I've found to remind myself that I set the tone for how others are allowed to treat me by how I treat myself. If a guy can't match how satisfied, happy, free, and content with life I make myself feel, he's not allowed to get a title.
This concept was an ambiguous goo permeating my life in the form of self-esteem since forever, but I didn't really get it until I started dating a variety of men in high volume as an adult woman. It's different on this side of the fence. I now have exterior lovers to compare my self-love to. Some great, some awful.
RuPaul said it best, “Honey, if you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love someone else?…..Can I get an amen?"
AMEN. AMENAMENAMENAMEN.
You better work.
I discovered that what they say to overworked mothers in parenting magazines is true--it's not inappropriately selfish to take good care of yourself. You are better able to give to others when you give to yourself first once in a while.
I don't have babies to take care of, but I do get way to invested in too many projects/activities/ideas/people, spread myself far to thin, emotionally exhaust myself and find myself confused at how I got to that point.
I forget to put my emotional, physical, mental, even spiritual well-being above having fun or saying yes about the wrong things to the wrong people.
Enough of that.
If you're being your own girlfriend:
You work, meaning you achieve things and feel a deep sense of accomplishment. You are impressed by yourself. In other words: you have active self-esteem.
You do nice things for yourself (within reason), like splurge on exotic snacks once in a while, take yourself on a little vaycay to see your best friend, refuse to respond to annoying text messages from lonely dudes.
You enjoy your own company. A night in, alone, sounds awesome because
it's a choice to simply do what you want to do without anyone
else's approval. A night out, alone, sounds awesome too. The first time
you hit up a movie theater alone it's a bit scary/weird, but you just
gotta get used to it. Laugh as loud as you want. Sneak in as much candy
as you want. Sit your fat ass next to a hot guy on "accident." Be
fabulous and do you.
You say no to things that aren't a priority.
You don't apologize for liking what you like. The guy who truly wants to be your boyfriend likes your quirks, likes the things you get embarrassed about, likes the fact that you have scars. Can you say the same thing for yourself? You better.
1. I have always wanted to rock climb. I am working on health goals so that I can, one day, confidently attack a mountain and win. Brook Roboutou attacks a mountain like I attack GDS-Free chocolate. Dayum gurl.
2. It is not simply her skill & training, but her unconquerable soul that allows Brook to thrive in this environment. We could all do well to remember that.
Due to a communication mix-up, I found myself without plans on a Saturday night. There are plenty of things to do in SLC--I could've checked out a show at the Urban Lounge, there was a poetry reading I could have attended, a play or two I wouldn't've minded checking out--and the party girl/extrovert inside STILL feels both guilt and remorse for skipping all of it.
However, the introvert inside insisted that I had just spent a whirlwind weekend in the bustling metropolis that is Provo, Utah and I needed to wind it on down.
So I did.
And that's when I found Butter.
The IMDb description: In small-town Iowa, an adopted girl discovers her talent for butter carving and finds herself pitted against an ambitious local woman in their town's annual contest.
I'm a sucker for quirky coming-of-age stories and this film fits the bill quite nicely. It's only 90 minutes, which is just enough time to build a delightfully layered story without belaboring the drama.
I was especially thrilled by a star-studded cast: Hugh Jackman (my second-favorite character), Jennifer Garner, Ty Burrell, Phyllis Smith, Kristin Schaal...and the surprisingly hilarious Olivia Wilde.
Observe:
Okay, it might be funnier in context but believe me, she knocks it out of the park.
A little more substance than Pitch Perfect but not quite a heavy hitter like Les Mis, it's a great home-alone-but-not-depressed-about-it indulgence.
Have you seen it?
Do you have a not-so-guilty-pleasure flick you'd like to recommend?
Tell me about it!
