Five reasons why I am (surprisingly) not bitter today:

First of all, let me confess that it still really, really bugs me to be sitting next to some (loudly) kissy couple who are somehow both sitting on the other's lap while waiting for the T in some underground station or other, where the sounds of smacking lips and giggles reverberate with a strange persistence unexplained by science.

Maybe that means I'm still bitter? Not sure.

BUT, I'm not bugged by Valentine's Day today. Not even a little. And let me tell you why:

1. There is not anyone I'm currently pining over. Somehow, I think being single on Valentine's Day becomes about ten times more difficult when there's someone you desperately want, who for some inexplicable reason doesn't want you. I am more than happy not to be in that state right now (and I hope never to be in it again), so the most angst I could muster up today would likely be in the form of a faint nebulous longing, or perhaps general irritation. Nothing big, like heart-wrenching, soul-tearing, cry-into-one's-pillow yearning. Nope. Not this year.

2. I have a brownie mix and two pints of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer. (Er, just the Ben & Jerry's is in the freezer. Not the brownie mix. That would be weird.) 'Nuff said.

3. I don't have to pretend to be social when I don't want to be. If I want to stay in to read a book or cross-stitch or watch Master and Commander or Superman Returns or Persuasion, (and I often do), I can. No one is pushing me to go out into the freezing cold wind (although 'freezing cold' doesn't quite seem to convey the lacerating nature of Boston's winter air currents) to go to a movie I didn't really want to see anyway. Although, I guess this could be a bad thing as well as a good thing. But right now, I'm seeing it as a good thing.

4. I get really tense in crowded situations. Which would make dining out tonight (usually pretty much a must on V-day for any couple in which the male part does not cook) an opportunity for jittery nerves which would slowly and irrevocably evolve into a full-blown panic attack.

5. I like me. I like me right now. Which means that I like me on Valentine's Day as well as on a day that isn't Valentine's Day. Which means that I'm not going to stop liking me and start being unhappy just because it is Valentine's Day. I like that I'm going to be a professional librarian (cross fingers, please!) within the next few months. I like that I like books and dogs and PBS and that I have brown eyes.

So frankly, Mr. St. Valentine's Day demon, you're going to try a heck of a lot harder to get me to feel bad today. Like maybe make my refrigerator break so my ice cream all melts and I can't consume it while reading a delightful novel after all. (Not that I want to give you any ideas or anything. So you can just ignore that last bit, okay?)

Daydreaming

Some people may daydream about kissing (although, come to think of it, I daydream about that, too). Some daydream about playing with dogs or being high-powered executives. Or being high-powered executives who play with dogs (well, I don't know--they might daydream about that).

Me? I daydream about a little place to myself, a little apartment or condo or cottage or yurt (if I happen to move to Mongolia) to call my very own. (Or rather, the landlord's or bank's very own, which I just happen to be leasing/paying off for a while.)

Yes. I daydream about buying towels and shower curtains and decorating the place with framed prints of botanical drawings and/or my cross-stitch projects, of purchasing sculptures of Chinese dragons and statues of Anubis to place on end tables and shelves, of having floor rugs and a couch I purchased myself and--joy of joys--a refrigerator I don't have to share with anyone else.

And maybe a dog. That too.

It's not that I don't like my roommates--I do. Actually, I like them a lot; they're fantastic gals, uniformly pleasant, who don't intrude too much and who give just enough support when one's dad is in the hospital having heart surgery.

But, I think I'm getting to the point where I'm ready to be on my own, to move away from the student atmosphere, to establish a life for myself.

Ready to grow up, I mean.

Which just begs the question: if I do get a dog, which breed should it be?

A breath of awesomeness

Okay, so it's time to arise from the dust (a little) and post about something that doesn't have to do with ill health. (Although, I must mention that my dad's doing better, and that you all are awesome for helping with your prayers and good vibrations, etc. Thanks, yo.)

Also, I don't know if it's just librarian/book folks who will think the following vid is awesome, but...I don't care. Because I think it's awesome, and I want to save it for posterity (i.e. Future Me).

Be forewarned: it's nearly 17 minutes, so if you don't have time for Tomie dePaola with a paintbrush in his teeth, then wait until you do. Seriously. It's worth it.


BOOK BY BOOK: the making of a monkey man from Jarrett Krosoczka on Vimeo.