We don't really celebrate the Valentine's. This time last year, Blake was taking his preliminary examination and probably collapsed immediately after he got home. Two years ago this time, we were watching the Winter Olympics like two champion couch potatoes.
It is quite a blessing for us that the naked Cupid boy stumbles upon a Tuesday this year. Blake doesn't have a sweet tooth. I don't like commercial holidays. When the special day for chocolate manufacturers falls on an unremarkable Tuesday, it is a perfect reason for us not to do anything.
But strange things do happen on Tuesday.
It snowed in Tucson!
Also, when I came home from the RA meeting, I found my place was broken into and visibly altered.
1) My piling dishes in the sink were gone!
2) There was a floral plant with tacky heart-printed ribbons stuck inside my paper towels!
3) Half of my acidic drinks in the fridge were missing!
I was surely speechless and felt an impulse to draft a letter to nowhere.
Dear mystery intruder:
Why you stole my orange juice and redeemed yourself by washing my dishes and leaving an inappropriate sign of affection? What do you want from me? Don't you understand that I'm engaged and you clearly crossed the line?
Yours confused,
Me
Head full of brains, Shoes full of feet
Legally speaking, I am an alien in this country.
But Blake thinks I am just a little green woman sent from the outer space. He is mesmerized because I smell extraterrestrial to him.
I often do and say things that are quite incomprehensible to normal human beings. I also have a knack for turning a happy event into an uncomfortably awkward moment. Not to mention, I have a track record of demonstrating unparalleled persistence over things most people don't even care.
He does not mind me being weird. In fact, I am so removed from the conventional knowledge that he feels compelled--and honored perhaps--to marry me and figure out this biggest puzzle known to him.
In an attempt to make me stay grounded in the earth with him, he teaches me skills to survive. He takes me places. He straddles me in gears to trek over long distances or walk on thin ice with him. He tries to speak my language and get to know my species. He explains to me why people in sleek hair and crisp suit are bickering and acting savage on TV. He listens to my babble and improvised, off-key songs, with a mischievous smile on his face.
He understands me because he knows he doesn't need to understand everything about me.
We would then lean against each other to watch a heart-warming video of the rebels, the outliers, and the misfits over and over again. I maybe shed a tear or two in deep appreciation of Dr. Seuss's legacy. He would try to find out the masterminds behind the cinematography and music and catch the transition imperfections with an expert's eye.
And we all know it can be a lovely thing to be footsy, brainy, and eccentric--together.
"Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.
You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.
It's opener there
in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too."
--Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!
But Blake thinks I am just a little green woman sent from the outer space. He is mesmerized because I smell extraterrestrial to him.
I often do and say things that are quite incomprehensible to normal human beings. I also have a knack for turning a happy event into an uncomfortably awkward moment. Not to mention, I have a track record of demonstrating unparalleled persistence over things most people don't even care.
He does not mind me being weird. In fact, I am so removed from the conventional knowledge that he feels compelled--and honored perhaps--to marry me and figure out this biggest puzzle known to him.
In an attempt to make me stay grounded in the earth with him, he teaches me skills to survive. He takes me places. He straddles me in gears to trek over long distances or walk on thin ice with him. He tries to speak my language and get to know my species. He explains to me why people in sleek hair and crisp suit are bickering and acting savage on TV. He listens to my babble and improvised, off-key songs, with a mischievous smile on his face.
He understands me because he knows he doesn't need to understand everything about me.
We would then lean against each other to watch a heart-warming video of the rebels, the outliers, and the misfits over and over again. I maybe shed a tear or two in deep appreciation of Dr. Seuss's legacy. He would try to find out the masterminds behind the cinematography and music and catch the transition imperfections with an expert's eye.
And we all know it can be a lovely thing to be footsy, brainy, and eccentric--together.
"Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.
You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.
It's opener there
in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too."
--Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)