loVe yourself day.

I love Valentine's Day. I admit, my love for it is primarily commercial-- I love the pink and red, the hearts, the focus on chocolate. And in recent history-beginning last year, anyways- I have turned it into a celebration of self-love that I find quite fulfilling (not that I don't like to spread the love-- I did send my fair share of Valentines). Last year I made myself an amazing steak dinner complete with ingredients from Pike Place Market:


And this year I showered myself with modest gifts:


and will soon be settling down with a lovely bottle of Columbia Crest Chardonnay (not the whole bottle, I do have a job to go to tomorrow) and a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half Baked ice cream. I tell you all this because it is, for better or for worse, an embodiment of my philosophy: that being single is not a limitation, and for whatever reason it is a gift that I've been given for this time in my life. I could ask why, I could reject it and settle (the linked article is not for the drunk or faint of heart-- it will make you cry) or I could even fail to acknowledge the holiday at all, but alas, the fact of the matter is, I know I have value, I know I have worth, I know I have something to contribute to society, and by golly (cheesy, I know), that's a good thing. I confess, my confidence has been bolstered by positive feedback from a professor and that this post would not have been possible earlier in the day, but let me tell you what I realized after I got that feedback (which Mom, meant that you are not the only one who likes my writing!) (though it wouldn't be a bad thing if you were the only one who did-- love ya Mom!).

I was sitting at the Trax station, freezing, waiting for the train to come because I have not had the energy to work the bike commute in my usual fashion. But, as I partook of the cold night air, sitting in quiet reverie of my own book review genius that I had miraculously and aptly demonstrated, I watched couple after couple get off the train headed downhill (I was headed up). As they made a promenade of love along the platform, I thought, "This should make me sad" and then I realized, as perhaps I could only in my beaten down (by the week) yet euphoric state (by the feedback) that I am married to my work! I have become one of those women whom I was warned against becoming! Ha! I realized almost all of my waking hours have been devoted to my field-- whether transcribing oral histories or going to class or reading book after book after article after article-- and I do.not.want for anything!* Glorious moment of fulfillment indeed! So the moral of the story is (other than don't drink and post): (in the epic paraphrased words of Thoreau):

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life that you've imagined. Build your castles in the air, and then build foundations under them!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go watch The Notebook.** <3

*except to see my family, but hey, that's only natural and I'm pretty used to it. And perhaps money, but hey, I work with what I've got and I do ok. Especially with the new jobbie-job!

**because despite all of this self-love and career driven effulgence of feminism, and whatever I may say, for all the cheese, that movie is damn sincere.