Phew! I'm allowing myself half an hour to vent amidst the craziness of writing a dissertation-type-thing in four days (2 to go)... this post is about sex.
Not actual sex, obviously. But something in that vague arena...
I have been going on and on to everyone I meet about how fabulous spring is because it symbolises newness of life. I even quoted Song of Songs on here as a demonstration of Jesus-love. Both these things are true, of course, but the fact is spring is mostly about procreation and Song of Songs is mostly about people getting it on.
I read a blog to this effect (you know who you are!) on Easter day, sharing just why the reason for the season was makin' babies and, well, frankly I was on a higher plane. Then.
But today I suddenly got reminded of what "spring" feels like. Lol. You can tell I'm under the influence of pressure-mentalness because I'm saying shocking things in an open forum that my folks read! Of course I'm only talking about eye contact with a "boy" in the supermarket... I was just totally surprised by the way I noticed someone attractive in public. I don't remember the last time that happen, I even remarked upon it to a friend last week who entirely didn't believe me. I'd forgotten what it felt like to pass a stranger and nod with internal appreciation. For fear of sounding holier-than-thou, I don't think I approve of all that jazz so I reckon this might just be the result of a conscious decision I made ages ago about valuing inner beauty. But today I was taken unawares and, realising that eye contact was made, became the Supermarket Slut I thought I was no longer! Yes, there was a second, reciprocated, glance... yes, I entertained the idea that since we both wore glasses and liked the same vegetables we were probably made for each other... yes, it turned out he had a girlfriend. See. There, right there, is the reminder as to why this is a foolish game: because when we play it we feel a bit foolish! It was available to me, I tried it, it didn't feel good.
The analogy? Well, spring it seems is a dangerous time to indulge in boy-shopping... particularly when there are dissertation-type-things crying out to be avoided. Last week I helped make mashed potatoes for around 40 people and when we discuss about how to season it the notion of mustard was mentioned... but sadly 40 is quite a large number of people to chance them all liking mustard and so we didn't. Today I made mash for one and I still forgot about mustard! Luckily though I remembered towards the end and totally appreciated dijon on the side... but it was a close call (and a bit past its use by date!). It's all about appreciating the benefits of where you are at (relations, locations, vocations... the analogy is flexible as long as it rhymes). Cooking for one? Do it your way. Cooking for 40? SLUT.
Well. I'm already missing out on spring 'cause where I'm at is my final-ever-(I hope!)-month-of-undergraduate-study and if I'm not careful I'll end up missing out on my degree as well... So see ya!
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2 comments:
Inner beauty is great.
But outer beauty is a lot of fun, too. And easier to spot from across the room.
Absolutely. But I think noticing something beautiful and judging someone by their appearance are entirely different things. I daily observe attractive men as I go about my business... it just doesn't normally register (though I confess that if someone is sufficiently UNattractive I probably will notice).
You are a rare sort that tends to see abstract beauty, most people take note of others because of sex appeal...
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