So, still on a high about the whole Go Fug Yourself thing. I know, I know. But I can’t help myself. I had to laugh, though, when sarazarr suggested I send a picture of myself so they could Fug me. Oh, no. BAD idea. I shudder to think.
You know how sometimes, the news is just ALL bad, all the time? Like every site you go to, or front page you read, concerns only bad things happening in the world. I know there’s a lot of bad stuff going on. It’s just life. But then you see a story like this one, about the benefits of napping, and suddenly, it’s all good.
Confession: I’m a napper. After lunch, I like nothing more than to stretch out for about thirty minutes and crash. Then, ideally, I wake up, sit down, and write for three hours. It’s like hitting the reset button, I swear: no matter what kind of stress I had before, it’s lessened, if not gone. I can’t do it every day (I wish!) but I’ve found that when I do, I feel better, look better, and act better (especially towards my husband, as moodiness is the first thing that hits me when I’m tired). But there is a real stigma about napping in this country. It’s perceived as lazy, and slothful, so if you have guilt issues (like, um, some of us) you don’t talk about your dirty little nap habit. You just nod when everyone talks about their high powered day, work work work, from dusk to dawn. But now, I have proof that my nap isn’t just decadent, but good for me: I have a 37% chance of heart disease than someone who doesn’t nap. So there! Midday sleepers unite!
In other news, it’s Valentine’s Day, in case you’ve been under a rock somewhere and have missed the massive amount of marketing and pressure for the last, oh, month or so. I’m the first to admit that we all need something to get through February, and this holiday does help. But when did Valentine’s become so far reaching? I mean, it used to be for love, love, only love. Like romantic love. Now, I feel like I have to send a card to everyone I know, from grandparents to postmen, and don’t think I don’t hold the card companies responsible. Plus, if you’re NOT in a relationship, you get twenty four hours straight of having it rubbed in your face. Not fun. So if Valentine’s Day has become this big, I think we need to widen our own definition as well, make it so it’s not just about loving your grandparents, or everyone in your class, or the postman, but also yourself. I’m not saying you have to buy yourself a card or anything (although Hallmark would LOVE that, I am sure) but just, you know, be nice to yourself. Show yourself a little patience, a little kindness. Eat some chocolate, put your feet up. Take a nap, even! You deserve it. Don’t you?
Finally—God, this is a long entry, sorry—a quick comment on Gilmore and Veronica. (SPOILER ALERT!) Was I sad to see Chris and Lorelei finally peter out? Nope. Not a bit. Was I beyond happy to see Wallace turn up on Veronica, after a LONG absence? (Even if he was on for only, like, five minutes?) Yes. But but but: the little girl thing, with Logan? It was a little cheesy, in my opinion. I know I’ve said it before, but please snap Logan back to the one we love. Ice cream with eleven year olds is hopefully an aberration, NOT a habit.
Okay, it’s 8:51, and my mom gave me a basket of chocolate yesterday. (Thanks, Mom!) It’s waiting. So here I go…