Yes, it’s a guy. Admit at least that he does it well. The song is originally by Deirdre Flint, who is a very clever and funny woman.
Monthly Archives: February 2008
For Christmas, I got a wonderful and very thoughtful gift: a portable iPod speaker dock. It was a great idea. I hook up my iPod to the dock, and now I have a portable radio/stereo that can play all my music for me anywhere in the house. I love music, so it really was a great idea, and I do appreciate the thought behind it. Even though my Creative Zen Touch didn’t fit in the dock.
Fortunately the givers of the gift did not take offense when I revealed that, but instead told me they purchased the dock at Best Buy, who is notoriously generous with gift exchanges right after Christmas. They even gave me the receipt, to make the exchange easier.
I took the dock and gift receipt back to Best Buy and exchanged them for a gift card, while I browsed their website for cool gadgets and toys. A couple of days ago, they finally received a shipment of the ultimate toy, that I have craved for almost a year now:
I bought one game with it, for now, and I have ordered a screen protector online, since the stylus might hurt it if I play too hard. Now all I need to do is drop broad hints that cool accessories or a DS Top Toy would make for a great birthday gift next week, and I’ll be all set.
(Disclaimer and fair warning: This is a pretty drastic departure from my usual blogs. This is an open and kind of personal letter, and if you don’t like reading very emotional and sappy stuff, you probably shouldn’t read this. There. You have been warned.)
You know I have never liked the whole Valentine’s Day hype. All the commercials hint broadly that men who don’t spend a fortune on small but very sparkling jewelry are cheapskates who are not fully committed to their wives, and the implied assumption that any wife offered a tiny sparkling rock in white gold will immediately reward the giver with enthusiastic sex, is even more insulting. The entire commercial circus surrounding Valentine’s day just makes me tired. I don’t like the idea of having to have a special day just to show some appreciation and affection for the love in your life.
But there is also something to be said for taking a day to step back, and look closer at our relationship, and focus on what it is we have that is so special, and what makes it worth all the negative things that are inevitable when you live as close to a person as a married couple is supposed to be. It irritates me that Hallmark and the discount mall jewelers are taking over a day that was supposed to be about why we are together, and are turning it into a commercial glitz and schmaltz fest of tasteless necklaces and pink cards with lace on the front. Lace…! Lace should never be allowed to be on anything but women’s underwear.
So I thought I’d try to take the special day back, by ignoring the lace cards and the mass-produced jewelry, and put the focus back where it belongs: Us. After all, who needs diamonds when I have you?
The only diamond I own has yet to try and cheer me up after a long day of work, when I am exhausted and unhappy, and doubting myself for any bad reason. Not to mention that it doesn’t rub my shoulders when they ache, and it certainly doesn’t make dinner for me. There is something very soothing and de-stressing about coming home to the smell of cooking and a warm hug.
But I’m getting side-tracked. I was going to tell you why I’m so happy we’re together, and are going to do everything in our power to stay together for the rest of our natural lives. And when our lives become super-natural we will be super-together! (And that was the obligatory Hallmark moment… now on with the letter.)
I have decided that I am just going to thank you instead, for some of those good things that we are supposed to focus on. Forgive me for forgetting some of them, because I know I probably will.
Thank you for always being on my side. Thank you for practically forcing me back to college. Thank you for believing in me and encouraging me, and pushing me to try harder, no matter how much I object. Thank you for giving me my confidence back, and for being there for me when it failed.
Thank you for taking the edge off the self-destructive side of my cynicism. Thank you for seeing that all it was, was idealism that had been disappointed far too often, and for bringing some of the faith back. Thank you for being patient with me while I searched for a purpose, and finally found it again.
Thank you for listening when I need someone to talk to, and for actually hearing me. Thank you for trying so hard to cheer me up when I am unhappy, and for succeeding surprisingly often.
Thank you for the laughs, and even for tickling me.
Thank you for not telling anyone what a hopeless romantic I am, and for pretending that you hadn’t noticed. Thank you for understanding that what is romantic is a very personal thing, and that the commercials have no idea what I like and what would make me happy.
Thank you for buying me a big water bottle and for the mp3-player. Thank you for unexpected back rubs and for bringing me coffee in the morning when I least expected it.
Will you be my Valentine?
This is the second highest number of points scored by an individual player in the history of the NBA. It is the highest ever seen on TV.
This scoring spree is a great example of why I admire professional athletes and martial artists. They are living proof that if you just want something badly enough, you actually can do it.
I was lucky enough that I got a ticket to the main floor, just below the stage, and had a very good view of the Senator as he gave his speech. I was close enough that if I had been idiot enough to lob the camera over the crowd, I could easily have hit him with it. Since I’m not an idiot, I instead focussed on taking pictures. I managed to get several fairly good ones, before my camera ran out of battery, and at that point I settled for listening. It was well worth getting up at 6 AM on a Saturday, to see this.
I think what I saw early on Saturday morning, was the next president of the United States.