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February 15, 2006
WARNING: This post contains uncharacteristically uncynical musings on love and happiness
Poo-poo Valentine's Day all you want- it's overrated, it's so commercialized, it discriminates against singles. Yes, all true. But for some reason, I was basking in its shmaltzy goodness. Yesterday was such a good day in fact I was convinced something bad was going to happen, specifically that I'd slip on some ice and break my hip or that an icicle would come tumbling off a skyscraper and knock me down. The spirits of all my neurotic ancestors have instilled in me this type of nonsense. But lo and behold, nothing bad happened.
I guess I have trouble sometimes accepting that I can be happy. I question it. I break it down, I beat it up, I expect it to escape me and replace itself with something else. But as the day wore on, I said fuck it, this is nice. And then right as I was thinking that a bird shit on my head. That's a lie. But if that had happened, I would have laughed and skipped down the street, whistling along with the imaginary blue bird on my shoulder.
The day began sweetly enough. Early in the morning I squinted open my eyes and I made out Rafe's
shadowy figure tip-toeing out of the bedroom with a tall bouquet of something, but what I couldn't quite tell. Later when I awoke, he called me from the road and told me go into the dining room where waiting was a huge bouquet of very tall pussy willows on the table. Pussy willows I've decided are fantastic.
During my lunch hour, I sat in a coffee shop to write in a card I had made for Rafe and as I was writing, I felt so full of emotion that I began to cry, right there in the Cosi in front of people eating their overpriced salads. Maybe it was PMS, or maybe I was just a fool in love. And when I came back to the office, I finally, finally after weeks of proscrastination, worked up the courage to tell my boss about my plans to take off a month to go to Honduras. Instead of firing me, she said congratulations and that my job would be waiting for me when I returned (sans pay, naturally, but still).
For dinner we went to 360 in Red Hook which was everything I had hoped for, culinary speaking. Apparently, it has been a "destination restaurant" for a few years now (that is, classy foodies from Manhattan--all the way across the river!-- gladly trek here for a taste of the goods). Hype or no hype, I'm a stickler for high quality food at a value and I had been wanting to go here for ages. Their prix fixe menu is just $25 for three delicious courses of refined French food. And while the food is sophisticated, the ambience is downright relaxed- mellow reggae in the background, tea towels for napkins, and um, the portly waiter was sporting a stained hooded sweatshirt (maybe a little too relaxed there buddy). All in all, I highly recommend the place. There are some funky little bars nearby too, including Lillie's, Bait &Tackle and Pioneer Bar. So yes, a happy day. The end.
Today is a brand new day, unfortunately. My period just started, and I'm in a really sour mood. Fucking day after Valentine's.
Posted by debbie at February 15, 2006 11:33 AM
Comments
i'm so happy that you had such a good day yesterday! No more worries about job, a good meal, some emotional moments of love and the realization that yes, you should be happy because sometimes, life actually works out! :)
Posted by: marie at February 15, 2006 1:36 PM