Hello! Well, I've missed another week, life is on again off again and Mother's Day had me cooking a lot, but here I am on another update.
While I mix in exciting things from the past two weeks, I'll sprinkle some thoughts I've had on love, while I've been on a fever to find it, a rush set by the unpredictability of life, wintry loneliness and my upcoming entrance onto the second half of my twenties.
I'll start with today, when a local park offering an embroidery workshop had me and my mom out the door by 10 on a cold sunday, but the sun kept us warm and we had a lovely morning chatting and embroidering our very own butterfly broach, while we couldn't finish on time, I spent the rest of the afternoon working at it, and I'll show you the result!
This week I decided to re-download a dating app. I've concluded several times that they're not for me since most people there look for instant satisfaction and it frustrates me that just by matching people could think we're on romantic ground, when I hardly even know them! (I even got a "you talk too much, I'll just steal a kiss" the first day which... yikes. Reminded me of the second episode of My so-called life actually)
But alas, I'm bored and lonely so I thought I could try it for a few days. Then I started to think about ways movies show a protagonist is in love. How they linger on the little details of their personalities that show. How they lick the lid of their yogurt or the order they follow when making their coffee, these are regular things but special in the eyes of love.
I fixate on these things sometimes, but on myself, and I question, am I making myself an idealized, movie version, being-looked-through-a-camera-lens love interest?
That springs up two different observations: 1) Movies perhaps lie to us in the importance of these details which has led me to always perform and 2) If I'm always trying to find the special in what I do, am I missing what others are doing that makes them special? Is specialness even that important, beyond the eyes of love?
That has haunted me these past two weeks, however, don't fret for me, I'm just as always. Last week I took myself and a coworker to a garage sale during our lunch time and I got myself a cassette (The rite of spring), two books (El Aleph and They came to Bagdad) and an apron.
Also, yesterday I finished a book, El Buzón de las Impuras by Francisca Solar, and there I was, crying my heart out at 2AM. I avoid staying that late since I'm prone to migraines, but I just couldn't leave it. I believe it is translated, so if you have the chance to read it, I encourage you.
I hope you've had a great couple of weeks, thanks for reading me today.