Ta-DA!

I have new hair.
And new glasses.

They go very nicely with my new teeth. -grin- My house is beginning to feel like A Makeover Story, so I think that'll be it for now.

How we need another soul to cling to.

I love Valentine's Day. Even when I'm sad. Even when I'm lonely. Even when I feel so empty, I fear I might actually become invisible at any moment. I was never one of those girls who hated the holiday. If I was single, I hung out with my other single friends watching romantic comedies and eating chocolate and talking about the kind of love we wanted, or didn't want or thought we might want temporarily, just for fun. There were slumber parties and late night phone calls and flowers for each other. That was almost better than having a date with a significant other anyway. Actually, not even almost. It was totally better. Every time. This year, of course, I'm married. That's a built in Valentine, except that I'm working, and he's feeling overwhelmed and burnt out with school. Still, bring on the cheezy romance! And the chocolate.

A Little Romance

Is anyone yummier than Joseph Fiennes? No.

Ok, so it's Valentine's weekend. I guess...Valentine's Day is actually on Monday, and I'm working anyway, but for OUR PURPOSES it's Valentine's Day weekend. OKAY? Good. Justin's got me a gift, but he won't tell me what it is, and he changed his password for his bank account, so I can't even look to see where it came from. Mean. Anyway.

My plans for my own private Valentine's Day (Saturday night, Justin's working) include watching my favorite romantic movies. Number one on that list? Shakespeare in Love, followed by The End of the Affair and then Chasing Amy. (Apparently all my favorites are from the late 90's. not sure what that says about me...)

Here's my favorite quote:

My story starts at sea,a perilous voyage to an unknown land, a shipwreck… the wild waters roar and heave, the brave vessel is dashed all to pieces, and all the helpless souls within her drowned. All save one, a lady, whose soul is greater than the ocean and her spirit stronger than the sea’s embrace. Not for her a watery end, but a new life beginning on a stranger shore. It will be a love story, for she will be my heroine for all time. And her name will be Viola.

Just reading it makes me weepy. What are your favorites?

Huh.

Apparently, poetry by E.E. Cummings makes me feel somewhat better. Interesting.


who knows if the moon's
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky--filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should

get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited,where

always
it's
Spring)and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves

In the Dark

I want a sensory deprivation tank. At least then, I'd have an excuse for why I'm sleeping 18 hours a day, for 5 days at a time. Ridiculous, I know. The official diagnosis is depression (that's all they ever say). I suppose that makes sense, I'm certainly behaving like I'm depressed. I'm not interested in anything. Not sex, not food, not shopping, not even the newest episode of Glee (that's when I knew it was really bad). And then, of course, there's the sleeping. The thing that makes me reject the depression diagnosis (besides pride) is that I'm not actually feeling anything. I'm not sad, I can't even remember the last time I cried (can I even still do that?). Mostly I just feel...empty. Depression requires sadness, doesn't it?
Every time I'm bored, hungry, stressed or someone wants me to make a decision (any decision) I go to bed. I read for an hour. Then I fall asleep until something absolutely compells me to get up. Sometimes I can trick myself by making an appointment or lunch date with someone (yesterday my siblings did an excelleng job of making me get up), but most days, there's just not really a good enough reason for me to drag myself out of bed. Even if I do get up for a few hours, it's not terribly long before I'm back to sleep, or even just lying in bed, thinking about nothing.
 During The Sleep, I never get up to use the bathroom. I never feel over-slept. I never get that achey, been in bed too long feeling. Sometimes I wake up, but it's never even a question of whether I'll go back to sleep or get up. I just roll over, rearrange the pillows and doze off again. I'm completely not bothered by the fact that I'm wasting 3/4 of my weekend. And that is upsetting.