Cornbally

I don't totally know what I want to write this morning.  I slept in a whole hour and got up at 7, fed the pup, stretched, them came back to bed out of some sort of Sunday obligation.  I wasn't tired so I grabbed my laptop and started plunking.  I thought about finishing a bunch of posts that have been saved in draft far longer than seems acceptable for the thing I was talking about, but decided against it.  Leroy is sleeping on my feet now, Travis is gently snoring, I notice our bedroom needs more art and the number of things I want to accomplish today is large.  But none of that can take my brain away from the fact it is February 14 - Valentines.  I don't even care to know the traditional origins, let alone the evolution into what we understand now.  Laughing, thinking of all the bottles of champagne poured with perfectly cut strawberries lining the rim; the rings who are hidden in fancy brioche buns, the sender hoping not to break their lovers' tooth; the people getting together for scheduled sex; and a bazillion cheezy souls hoping their woo plans worked.

I wasn't dumped when I was 14; there was no traumatic event; the childhood papersack never sat empty on my small desk.  But my parents invested a lot on massly worded cards to express their feelings on what for me, are meaningless holidays.  And so while nothing physically happened to turn me into a spiteful bird, emotionally I have never liked the high expectation, demand & pressure they cause from someone you're supposed to care about.  And when each one comes around, my holiday justice kicks in that I must declare again in case you missed it.

I'm sure friends have setup little silly things for their partner, a sea of red & pink candies or cards or presents.  Maybe there is opportunity an inside joke to be re-shared for a morning laugh.  Maybe you go out for pancakes because it's an excuse to treat yourself instead of being like it's Sunday yo - pancakes!  All of these things are totally possible and cool if yer into.  And yet I wanted a quick & witty "I'm better than you" twitter snap for knowing my dude is rad every day of the year.  But that seemed generic.  I debated about reposting a former declaration on facebook to show my friends I don't care.  for why?  I would assume most of the people on that list know I'm incredibly over the moon with my husband and I'd slash anyone's tendons who would threaten that.  So as I looked, scanned, read and took in all the predicted love junk, I innocently thought more about Travis.  I found my brain or heart or whatever in a mini-battle over who was right: lameness vs. not totally scoffing at the idea I could share a bunch of our silly together photos because they aren't cornbally and like I'd have a joke with it, taking what today is down a notch.  This made participating somewhat ok because they are a reflection of us in the most awesome way and not because I'm buying in, I'm only observing.

Which then I'm like oh gawd, I'm not into this but maybe hate is a strong word for the distaste associated!!

And then I kinda reset some shit because I'm a fucking grown up and understand more about experiences.  Where-as I started off the morning fixated on mentioning today sux, like it was my moral obligation or something, I look at my family - Travis and Leroy and think so what it's Valentines day, I don't have to buy in to your idea of what that is.  I can continue to be incredibly lucky to share everyday with them.

So how ever or where ever or with whom ever you are in the presence of in life, remember to make an effort to do something kind, nice & caring for those who matter on February 15 (National Gundrop Day,) May the 4th Be With You (because Star Wars,) and drink up to all yer matey's on September 19.

It doesn't fucking matter today, it matters all the time.


~~~~~
ok a little cheese.

Travis texted me this.