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Wednesday, February 14, 2007 

Happy Valentine's Day

Baloo and I agreed to not celebrate Valentine's Day. Number one, we want to cut down on unnecessary expenses. Number two, we don't need a calendar to tell us when to display our love. I like the fact that he's as cynical as I am. However, I did want to share this with y'all. It came from here.

love sucks (and that ain't bad)

"If love doesn't suck, you're not doing it right."

"I'm going to quote you on that," said my sister, laughing into the phone.

"Go ahead," I replied. "But I'm serious. Really real love is all about inconvenience."

Not that I know a whole lot about really real love, but I'm a shrewd observer. I know what I see. And if my sister's boyfriend loves her, not only will he drive thirty minutes out of his way to run her errands or take her to church, he will do it in a blizzard, on bald tires, and with a choice swear word or two on his tongue. Because that's what love is: irritatingly inconvenient.

I know StepBob loves my mom, because every time her four chaos-loving girls descend on their home, stripping him of his privacy, peace, and quiet, he thanks us for coming and invites us back again. Love is all about losing your sanity, bit by ever-loving bit.

I know I love Hal because just about everything he does has the potential to be annoying (Yeah, see that scar on my leg? Sneak attack!), but somehow, it's totally adorable. Like when he insists on sleeping across my shins. Love is about sleeping in uncomfortable positions because the object of your affection looks too damn cozy to disturb.

I know my friend Angie loves me, because when I asked, "Is our friendship strong enough to ask you to help me with my corset?" she didn't even flinch. Love is about seeing folks naked and being real nice about it.

Ari cooks me mom food for dinner. Sarah keeps her hopes up for me. Torrie has given me part ownership in her baby (having my own scares the shit out of me). Because love is about seeing someone's shortcomings and picking up the slack. Goldner lets me choose the dessert (molten chocolate cake!) and always lets me have the last bite. Because love is about not always getting what you want, and pretending you didn't want it anyway.

See? When you're doing it right, love really does suck. Which is probably why we can never get enough of it.

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About me

  • I'm young, single, got a great ass, a serial dater, a sometimes drunk, addicted to the gym, liable to make fat girls cry, have a mild ED, think Notre Dame is the greatest college and Texas is the greatest state. Currently at a standstill since moving from Detroit Area, Michigan (tons of yuppies) to Mason, MI (noted KKK presence). Come be a part of my random, shocking, and exciting world.
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