As far as my former significant other is concerned, his status may not be so former after all. Roses were delivered early this morning, a candy gram came at noon, and I received a makeshift pajamagram at about 3:00. The former significant other had wanted to send me the real thing (in terms of the pajamagram) but his mom convinced him that I would drown in the smallest size the company offered. His mom and his sister helped him to pick out a lovely silk nightshirt / silk-blend knit leggings ensemble from Victoria's Secret***, which is not the typical go-to place of business for Valentine's day gifts (or gifts for any occasion/) when it comes to Mormons and their shopping habits. I appreciate the concession made on my behalf, yet can't help wondering if the fourteen-year old sister will ever be truly the same as she was before her venture into Babylon.. The single shopping excursion may have done more to bring the girl toward the light than anything I might ever have done intentionally.
Just because someone sends me something doesn't mean I'm absolutely obligated to reciprocate, but he has been very nice lately, and I didn't wish to be rude. I'm not exactly in a position to hop into my car, pick out a nice shirt and tie for him, and drive to Los Angeles with it. Fortunately, I have a Fairy-God-Aunt who also had relatives traveling to the UCLA neighborhood today, which is where my former (or not-so-former) significant other attends school and lives in the dorms.
Jillian took cookie dough out of the freezer and baked two kinds of cookies: chocolate chip and frosted heart-shaped sugar cookies. She packaged them beautifully, I was told by others, and had her mom deliver them this afternoon when part of the family drive to Los Angeles. Timmy, Jillian's brother, attends UCLA med school, and her mom was delivering baked goods to him for Valentine's Day in the immediate vicinity while on a family trip. The coincidence was most fortuitous.
The gift I gave was sub-par when compared to his, but it's the thought that counts, or it's what people say all the time, anyway, when they inadvertently give someone a gift that is out-matched by the one given to them. The thought might have counted more had I actually baked the cookies that he received, nut he's none the wiser unless he reads this blogs, and so far he has no clue as to its existence.
My response to this person's actions is causing me to sound as though someone can drop me like a soda can into a recycling bin, and that i'll come rushing back at the first sign of positive attention, but the situation is a little more complicated than I've indicated.. The whole breakup, which in my opinion he could have resisted more forcefully than he did, was at is father's insistence due to religious differences between the two of us, and due largely to his father's fear that I would exert excessive influence in the ex's (or not so ex's) decision as to whether or not to fulfill a two-year mission for his church. The official part of the break-up was short-lived, as the former (or not) significant other's mother very quickly overruled he husband's decision. Once the guy had dated three other girls in the three days, however, things were not the same regardless of the impetus of the split. Once his mother issued her edict, I won't say that he exactly groveled, but he did become more attentive than he had been at any time in the past. This latest gesture, however, was by far the most seemingly sincere act since I've known the guy. Still, I choose to be cautious where such matters are concerned. I'm eighteen. There's half a lifetime at the very least for me to conclude that any guy is THE one.
On a totally unrelated topic, I added two songs to my list of favorite songs, which now numbers twenty-seven and not just twenty-five. I suspect the total will number somewhere around eighty-nine before it's complete My two additional selections are ones I can scarcely believe slipped my mind. One is "House at Pooh Corner" by Kenny Loggins. The other is "Waltzing Matilda."
The latest news on the myositis front is that I am no longer taking Toradol. Instead I'm using a topical NSAID known as Flector patches. They seem more effective so I'm happy.
Happy Hallmark Day.
*** I'm not, by any stretch of the definition, anorexic. I have small bones and a very ectomorphic body type, with a small appetite to boot. If I could have my Fairy-God-Aunt wave her magic wand and instantly make me a size 2, I'd do it in a heartbeat.
Just because someone sends me something doesn't mean I'm absolutely obligated to reciprocate, but he has been very nice lately, and I didn't wish to be rude. I'm not exactly in a position to hop into my car, pick out a nice shirt and tie for him, and drive to Los Angeles with it. Fortunately, I have a Fairy-God-Aunt who also had relatives traveling to the UCLA neighborhood today, which is where my former (or not-so-former) significant other attends school and lives in the dorms.
Jillian took cookie dough out of the freezer and baked two kinds of cookies: chocolate chip and frosted heart-shaped sugar cookies. She packaged them beautifully, I was told by others, and had her mom deliver them this afternoon when part of the family drive to Los Angeles. Timmy, Jillian's brother, attends UCLA med school, and her mom was delivering baked goods to him for Valentine's Day in the immediate vicinity while on a family trip. The coincidence was most fortuitous.
The gift I gave was sub-par when compared to his, but it's the thought that counts, or it's what people say all the time, anyway, when they inadvertently give someone a gift that is out-matched by the one given to them. The thought might have counted more had I actually baked the cookies that he received, nut he's none the wiser unless he reads this blogs, and so far he has no clue as to its existence.
My response to this person's actions is causing me to sound as though someone can drop me like a soda can into a recycling bin, and that i'll come rushing back at the first sign of positive attention, but the situation is a little more complicated than I've indicated.. The whole breakup, which in my opinion he could have resisted more forcefully than he did, was at is father's insistence due to religious differences between the two of us, and due largely to his father's fear that I would exert excessive influence in the ex's (or not so ex's) decision as to whether or not to fulfill a two-year mission for his church. The official part of the break-up was short-lived, as the former (or not) significant other's mother very quickly overruled he husband's decision. Once the guy had dated three other girls in the three days, however, things were not the same regardless of the impetus of the split. Once his mother issued her edict, I won't say that he exactly groveled, but he did become more attentive than he had been at any time in the past. This latest gesture, however, was by far the most seemingly sincere act since I've known the guy. Still, I choose to be cautious where such matters are concerned. I'm eighteen. There's half a lifetime at the very least for me to conclude that any guy is THE one.
On a totally unrelated topic, I added two songs to my list of favorite songs, which now numbers twenty-seven and not just twenty-five. I suspect the total will number somewhere around eighty-nine before it's complete My two additional selections are ones I can scarcely believe slipped my mind. One is "House at Pooh Corner" by Kenny Loggins. The other is "Waltzing Matilda."
The latest news on the myositis front is that I am no longer taking Toradol. Instead I'm using a topical NSAID known as Flector patches. They seem more effective so I'm happy.
Happy Hallmark Day.
*** I'm not, by any stretch of the definition, anorexic. I have small bones and a very ectomorphic body type, with a small appetite to boot. If I could have my Fairy-God-Aunt wave her magic wand and instantly make me a size 2, I'd do it in a heartbeat.
