The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.~Oscar Wilde

The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.~Oscar Wilde

I love Oscar Wilde. A bisexual who irritated everyone. Hmmm…

So yeah I pissed off a few people with my last post. It’s not the first post I got email on from random people on the internet but hey…I got some. .

Why did my er…anti Valentine’s post bug people. I think, if you like doing that you should. I just um…don’t. There is something dead in that spot or numb or nonexistent. And for the reasons I said earlier that pissed all ya’ll off.

I’d like to think of it as bad writing why you all got angry. Honestly, it has to be bad writing because all I’ve been doing is academic or memo writing which is heinous. My creative writing skills have atrophied and I”m trying to rectify that. I should have made my intent clearer. I was supposed to make you think about WHY you celebrate Valentine’s and offer an alternative view (and there were so many Valentine’s –they were stoned or shot with multiple arrows or stabbed …sheesh)

Maybe I spent TOO much time in the stacks at school. And really I was fascinated by the Saints. One day I’ll tell you about Christina the Astonishing (one of my faves).

About Valentines, let me make this clear. It is great if you do, especially if you get sex or chocolate out of it. Like lots of chocolate. Like willy fucking wonka chocolate. Or um Tequila.

Perhaps I’m crippled.

I am only weirdly romantic. I can’t explain it. My husband and I got married on Halloween so we’d always dress up and give candy to kids and ghosts would visit us on our anniversary. I also don’t like diamonds and have issues about how you deal with my birthday; YOU do the math.

T Here is a really damn good reason we’re married. We irritate each other less than other people would irritate us. And he likes cats. Oh and he’s a great Dad. Also he’s really freaking nice to me in a way I understand. As I am to him.

He also gives me space. Space to screw up. Space to be alone. Space to read. Like I do him. We come together we move apart. He’s a hermit and I’m less so. He’s a friendly misanthrope and I’m an unfriendly humanist. A match made in…well somewhere.

Ok..so did I make that clear for all those who are pissed at me, love me, used to love me, would like to love, might love me in the future, or who think I am a total douche?

Have valentine’s and really really get squishy with it if it makes you happy. I mean that!

I had something more to say tonight, but it got caught up in the above.

And you know…I get tired of explaining myself.

I either charm people or annoy them. I do this in person or with my writing. You either like me or think I’m a deer tick. I suck or I don’t. I am sliced bread or catpoo in your toaster oven.