"Valentine's Day!" aka "Discount Chocolate Eve!"

So it's Valentine's Day. Desperation Day. The National Celebration of Love. Or, as I like to call it, Discount Chocolate Eve. (FYI, I did write this on V-Day but forgot to post it until now. Fail.)

Once again the year finds me alone. Still missing my better half, the Romeo to my Juliet, the Rhett to my Scarlet (or Link?), the Pepper to my Salt, the Peanut Butter to my Jelly, the Mustard to my Ketchup, the Prince Charming to my Damsel in Distress, the Punch-line to my Joke.

"But how could that be?!" you cry out. "You are so witty and charming and beautiful!" (Ahem. Say it.SAY IT.)

The real truth to the matter, in all honesty, is that it really doesn't bother me. Many of my friends who find themselves single on this holiday are heartbroken, sobbing as they watch romantic comedies and eating Nutella straight from the jar. "WHY?" they wail, "I am destined to be forever alone!"

When I woke up this morning though, the first thought in my head was "It's snowing!" followed by "Where did these socks come from that i'm wearing? I've never seen them before..." and then, somewhere in the back of my head, "Isn't today Valentine's Day? More sweets for me!" I've never really had that panic of being single before, the fear of becoming a crazy old cat lady in the wilderness. I mean, c'mon. Obviously I will be either an old fish lady or an old hedgehog lady. Get real, people.

All joking aside, I really have never panicked about not having a boyfriend. I guess since I've never outright tried to pursue dating that I don't feel like I've failed or am missing out on anything. Maybe when I'm a bit older I'll be more regretful with a lonely Valentine's Day. But which is worse? Having a boyfriend who doesn't do anything to express his love on Valentine's Day or to be single and still have a mystery future to look forward to? Plus asking someone out just to not be alone on Febuary 14th seems unfair to all involved. 

Speaking of expressing love, I really feel sorry for guys sometimes. They are expected to pull out all the stops and wine and dine the special girl in their life at any cost. Expectations can be so high that there is no way to meet them. On the other hand, though, they don't get out of not doing anything. Just because a guy can't buy a hot air balloon or take his wife on a trip to Paris doesn't mean he shouldn't ignore the holiday completely. If you are with the right girl who doesn't expect diamonds and caviar than any effort, even just buying her favorite flowers or taking her out to eat at a place she likes, is appreciated and sweet. Sometimes it really is the thought that counts.

For all you single ladies (and gents), here is a list to remind you of the perks of being single on V-Day:

-Sleeping in.
-Sweat pants and pjs are your new best friends.
-Comb? Razor? Shampoo? What are these things you speak of?
-Less people to buy gifts for, more money!
-Too bad I don't have to share all my chocolate with someone else. TOO BAD.

And for everyone who has found their special someone (always makes them sound like a ring of keys or an overdue library book), here is a list of pros:

- Those ooey-gooey butterflies in your stomach are going to be working overtime.
- Surprises and Sweet Gestures.
-Getting cards from someone other than family members.

So I guess what I'm saying is I'm not joining the "I'm single and proud and crying on the inside" women's parade or the "Oh honey-boo I LUV U 4-EVA'!" gang. I'm perfectly happy spending the day expressing my love to my family and friends and chocolate. Oh, and in the arms of my one true love: my scarlet snuggie.

And wearing my bunnie hat.

Love and Other Forms of Chocolate,

-Hannah
(Maybe I went overboard on the gifs this time...)

A Christmas Concussion

Christmas is now gone and has left me with wonderful gifts, platters of Christmas cookies, and possibly a concussion. All in all, its been a pretty fantastic Christmas. Now if only the room would stop spinning...

Christmas morning moves at the speed of a drunken snail at our house. Staying up 'till 1 a.m. on Christmas Eve eating chicken wings (you can only have so much ham and figgy pudding) and playing Appletters might have something to do with sleeping in to 9:45, but its my parents who are mostly to blame. Every Christmas they insist on performing their usual morning rituals before letting us dive under the tree. Over the years this has included getting dressed, making coffee/tea, making their bed, doing dishes, EVEN SHOWERING. The whole time the children of the household are groaning and looking at the gifts like a kindergarten class of weak bladders looking after a restroom. 

This year was better, I must admit. Coffee and tea was made, a ham basted, dishes washed, and some breakfast bread sliced but we made it to gifts before the it had become Christmas Noon.

Some of the worst and best gifts come out of letting my little sisters shop with little direction or assistance. Emma, for example, has learned how to read just to the point where she can recognize our names. How excited Jonmark was when he opened his gift, a candle holder with holly leaves and the name, "Jennifer", painted on the side. The cherry on top was that it doubled as a trinket box. My parents barely managed to top that gift with a Droid, Emma is a hard act to follow after all. Last year she gave him earrings.

Glory's gift to Jonmark was even better. She actually found two gifts, one for Jonmark and his roommate, Stony. Wrapped under the tree this Christmas was Scented Malibu Party Ken and Glam Beach Ken. I'm sure they will make lovely targets for explosives when he gets back to school. That or a new friend to go into their pet fish's tank.

Personally, I loved everything I got for Christmas this year; the sleek Canon digital camera, assorted goodies, makeup brushes, and of course good old money. One of my favorite (and most painful) presents would have to be my new poi flags.

Apparently back in the ancient mists of New Zealand, the tribal Maori people (sort of like our Native Americans) had their warriors practice with poi to make their arms stronger and to develop wrist-flexibility for using weapons. Poi are two chains or cords with a weight at one end and a handle at the other. A poi dancer will swing the weighted poi around their bodies in geometric patterns while dancing. But enough words, you can see it for yourself:

Poi with weights and streamers:

Poi with veils (voi):

Poi with flags:

And when you are really good, poi with fire:

Oh, and there is also glowstick poi. Yeah.

My Conclusions So Far on Poi:

1. Its not as easy as it looks.

2. Getting hit in the forehead by an iron poi weight hurts like the dickens. And draws blood.And multiple bruises.(The really ironic part is that the poi veils I got were called "Healing".)

3. ITS SO FUN.

Now, I must go play with my new toys. Asta la vista, baby!

Merry Late Christmas and A Happy New Year,

-Hannah