The Most Wonderful Day of the Year.

14 Feb

I was all set to write a scathing indictment of the horrors of Valentine’s day and how it’s become a terrible commercial game in which you are damned if you do and damned if you don’t, but frankly, that subject has been pretty well covered this year. I read an excellent Guardian article (for which I can’t find the link, sorry!) about the insistence of society on living in pairs and how it’s all sort of a bit weird, actually (it was put more eloquently than that but y’know) and also a bunch of other pleasing things, mostly by the Vagenda Magazine (like King Lear, but for girls) on the strange assumptions that get peddled about what women want out of Valentine’s day compared to what men want out of it. And so on.

As you may note, I appear not to have deviated from my plan thus far. Well, the Valentine-hating stops there, folks. Yeah, alright, it’s a bit rubbish being a lonely singlething on Valentine’s AGAIN, but, y’know, it’s not all doom and gloom.

F’rinstance. I arrived home to a letter – a LETTER! – addressed to ME – containing an actual factual Valentinian love note. It was from my ‘bosom’ companion, Rachel. What makes this particular note extremely joyous is that I sneakily posted her a tiny card yesterday, too. Neither of us knew the other would send anything. We just did. That’s what love is, guys. Doing something for the sheer joy of knowing the other person will be delighted to receive it. The other direct message I had today was from my additional ‘bosom’ companion (given that I’ve got two components to my bosom, I reckon having more than 1 bosom companion is reasonable), Laura. So I may be living up the Platonic quasi-lesbian lifestyle, but LOVE IS IN THE AIR, folks.

Also, I went to ‘Twilight at the Museums’ last night. No, it’s not a Ben Stiller vampire movie. It’s a thing that happens in Cambridge every once in a while where the museums (and there are quite a lot of them, given how small the city is) open after hours. They keep most of the lights switched off, apart from a few crazy-coloured uplights and so on, so the dinosaur skulls and kayaks cast crazyawesome shadows on the walls. Michael and I were the only people there above four foot who hadn’t brought children; we had, however, brought childlike enthusiasm. We both came away with stickers. It was awesome. The funniest thing was the guy in the box pretending to be an exhibit at the Sedgwick. Seriously, he was in a wooden box that was made to look like a 19th century geologist’s study, wearing an enormous white wig and writing with a quill. Occasionally he would pause and move a bit jerkily, as if he was pretending to be an automaton. It was – surreal. No other word for it. We also went to the museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, where we looked at cannibal forks and an enormous wooden bear, among other things. An excellent way to spend an evening on a whim.

Also. Now. I don’t want to blow my own trumpet, but stand by for a small solo.

I totes won something I didn’t expect to ever hear about again and even though it was only a tiny piece of writing and for a competition which I’m sure wasn’t entered by that many people it still put a smile on my face from the moment I got the email at around 4.30pm until – well, now, basically. Even discovering I’ve been massively cocking up the work filing system (oops) did not push the gleeful lunacy off my face. Natch the parentals have wheeled out the whole orchestral brass section to sing about it from the rooftops (not elicited by me, I might add) which is a leetle awkward, but hey ho, I can still feel pleasantly smug about the whole thing.

If nothing else, it means that someone, somewhere, thinks I can write. Maybe they think I can only write film reviews. At this stage of the game, I don’t really mind. A tiny trickle of confidence may just go some way to beginning the erosion of years of self doubt. Which must be a good thing, on the whole. Right? Of course right.

On an almost related note, I can tell people who enjoyed my January-books post that so far this month I have read The Good Soldier and 1984, and I’ve nearly finished On the Road. I also went a bit crazy on Amazon, so there’s plenty more exciting things on the way (Cloud Atlas + Wolf Hall are fairly high on my list, for starters..). So if you wanna be my lover join in the conversation, you know what I’m reading. Go wild!

Sleep dreamily, childlings.


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