Lurve

Valentine's Day is right around the corner.

What? You think I'm going to bitch about it? WRONG!

I luurrrve love. I don't really lurrve Valentine's Day, but I do approve of the general gesture. It is a gesture that should be celebrated year-round, like Black History Month, or Mother's Day, but at least there is a day where it is directly stated that you think about the theme.

SO! In contrast to the last entry, I decided to expose some comments that people make, which make me feel good, and perhaps fall in lurrrve. Yes, it is all about me, again. But yes, this is MY blog. So there.

First off, I luuuuurrrve it (I promise I'll stop now) when people tell me I'm funny. I generally equate humor with intelligence, and there is nothing more that I want from people than them thinking that I've got some things going on in my head. I always fall for a guy if they laugh at my jokes, rather than I laugh at theirs. Of course, it's gotta be give and take. Like I said, I lurve the intelligence, and stupidity is all the way at the number one negative on my list of criteria.

Second, I like it when people say that they like the way I dress. Most of the time, I dress the way I do to please only myself. In fact, I can't remember the last time I've dressed for someone else. I don't think I've ever done that. It's for my personal enjoyment and it's really the only thing about my appearance that I fuss about. (By that I mean, I don't care about make-up and hair. Most of the time.) When people compliment me about it, it's recognition about something that I cherish. Although, I don't really give a shit if people don't like the way I dress if I think it's alright. So, I suppose this is a win-win situation for me. (On a side note, it makes me laugh when people pull out things at clothing stores saying, "This is SOOOOOOO you." I don't know what it is, but sometimes they pull out things that look like sequenced potato sacks. I think they think I'm crazy.)

Third, and (I believe) last, I lurrrrrrrrrrrrrve it when people are impressed with my Spanish. I know that sounds conceited, but shit, I worked HARD for that! I think it comes from my general lack of confidence with it, actually. There is not a day that goes by at work, where I feel like I've spoken Spanish perfectly. Every time I get off the phone with my clients, I KNOW I've made some kind of grammatical mistake. I don't fret about it any more, because frankly, it's a waste of time. But it makes me feel accomplished when a Spanish speaking person tells me that, the way I talk is alright to them. You know?

So there you go. That's my top 3. If you could cook up a poem or something telling me those three things, you might just have me. I have to tell you though, I hate being serenaded. That is my worst nightmare. I will dump water on you if you come to my bedroom window with a guitar. A boombox a la John Cusack... maybe. But that's cutting it close too.

Happy Valentine's Day! (Soon.)