Love is...

...many things, some of them wonderful, and some of them not. This is another post that's been stewing in my head lately, because we attended a really lovely wedding a few weeks ago. I don't know what it is about weddings that nobody can find a different Bible passage to read, but the one that always comes up is this one:

“Love is patient; love is kind
and envies no one.
Love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude;
never selfish, not quick to take offense.
There is nothing love cannot face;
there is no limit to its faith,
its hope, and endurance.
In a word, there are three things
that last forever: faith, hope, and love;
but the greatest of them all is love.”

And many of these lines bother me. I mean no disrespect for the Bible, or to anyone who likes the verse. It's lovely, and in some lights, it's true. See, love is not always patient. Few things are less patient than the headlong rush into love. Love is certainly not always kind. It might be to the loved one, but to the lover rejected, it can be quite cruel. And said rejected lover certainly envies whoever the object of his or her affections chooses instead.

Love is boastful, and conceited, and quite rude. Who hasn't bragged about how wonderful their lover is? Who hasn't been proud to strut about with their lover on their arm, admiring the dashing figure they cut? And, well, love is tied very closely to lust in many cases, and lust is quite rude. Love is indeed selfish, because at the base, love is about how someone makes you feel and your response to that. Love takes offense more easily than most other emotions. It might forgive, eventually, but the offense is there. Love is touchy, and fragile.

As for there being nothing love cannot face, well, it doesn't tend to do very well with loss, betrayal, or separation. Love surely does have its limits to faith (ask the spouse who's been betrayed, or the child whose parent left) and to its endurance (love, like so many natural things, can't exist in a vacuum).

This is really a lovely verse, and I certainly have nothing against the sentiments. Love is a great and powerful thing. But, like all human emotions, it is different for every person. For some people, love is a great, empowering emotion that leads them to do powerful good in the lives of others. For certain people, love can turn you mean and small and angry with the fear of losing it. Love is something different to each of us, and there are dozens of kinds of love. Romantic love, familial love, platonic love, love of self, and on and on the list goes. Not all of those are grand, sweeping types of love, nor are all lovers grand, faithful, sweeping people.

In the end, I believe that love has as much strength and as much power as the person who feels it. It can bring out the very best, purest motives in a person, and some of the basest ones. And once in a very great while, it can change your whole perspective and make you do something entirely different, and maybe a little better, than you would have been able to manage before. Love can be a consolation, a comfort, and a refuge. But it can also be a knife in the heart. In each situation we deal with every day, love is something different. It's present, and it is great, and it is powerful. But like people, love is flawed, and messy, and real.

Five Word Blog

Quizzo after work is rockin!

Sort-of Lazy Blogging...

...or, criticizing popular literature. I feel I should preface this entry by pointing out that fantasy is by far my favorite genre. I have read (and love, deeply) high fantasy, urban fantasy, stories about magic and elves and vampires and werewolves and bards and giants and all manner of things. So, I'm not hating on fantasy here. Much love to the fantasy writers who do a good job (hi, roxie and amy lane!). However, I have a few bones to pick with Stephenie Meyer.

I started listening to Twilight because I was sort of intrigued by the idea. It's hardly new, but well, see the above disclaimer. Fantasy is my genre, baby. However, Stephenie's fantasy really isn't. See, I can suspend disbelief to accept that vampires are real and walk among us. However, I can't make myself believe that they voluntarily put themselves through high school over and over and over again. Come on, high school really isn't the glory years. It's an angsty, confused, hormonal time. Why would a cosmopolitan, century or so old creature put itself through that again and again? That stretches my imagination muscles a little. However, the heroine stretches them to the point where they break.

See, the main vampire admits to the heroine that he's been breaking into her house and watching her sleep. He's been doing this for weeks, even though he seemed to pretty much hate her when they first met. And the heroine doesn't once bring up the words 'stalking' or 'restraining order' or even 'psychotic'. Nope, she tells him it's incredibly romantic and she hopes he'll do it more often. Sorry, nobody is that crazy. Nobody thinks that level of creepiness is okay in real life. Not even a besotted teenager. The vampire admits to his lady love that he could crush her if he loses his concentration for a single moment, and that there's a very, very good chance that he's going to end up killing her. Does she say, 'Well, huh. I think we're done here'? Nope. She says, 'I trust you!' and bats her eyelashes and leans in a little closer.

Also, said heroine must have harnessed the awesome power of pheremones or something, because she starts out the book without a lot of friends and having never had a date. However, three or four chapters in, at least four different young men have asked her out. She suddenly becomes catnip for males. It's just a little too high school wish-fulfillment for me.

And all that, I could have accepted, albeit with a little work. But Stephenie lost me the minute she disclosed one thing. In her magical world of improbable things, vampires are strong, virile, fast, and... they sparkle. I'm sorry, I can't accept a world where vampires choose not to go out in the day because they sparkle. That's just too much, even for me. And I believe in fairies. All in all, it's not a bad book, and I'll probably listen to the end, and move on to the rest of the series. Mainly, though, because I downloaded it for free.

In review:
--Real vampires don't sparkle
--Who gets turned on by skin that feels like marble/ice/stone? I understand a lot of kinky fetishes, but necrophilia just baffles me (the heroine is way into the cold skin thing. creepy!)
--Read something written by Amy Lane instead. There's actually sex and swearing
--Stephenie Meyer basically wrote a book about what she wished high school had been like
--This is not the book to use to illustrate healthy boundaries. Not even a little.

Totally Late

Because I no sooner mentioned my good health than I was struck by a charming stomach virus. What with all the wonderful visits to my enchanting bathroom, I didn't notice the time. I'd planned a real entry here, something mildly interesting. That will have to wait a little longer. I can't believe it's only day six and I've already stumbled and technically missed a blog.

In review:
--I, and my digestive system, are total, utter fail.

Totally Boring Health Update

Which, I have decided, is my favorite kind. Roxie asked me to post and let y'all know how I was doing, and how the healing process is coming along. So far as I can tell, things are coming along swimmingly. I hardly ever have pain in my chest, and when I do, it tends to be short-lived. I'm more comfortable, and I'm slowly getting the strength back in my chest muscles. The numbness is still there, though, which is pretty strange. I can feel pressure when something touches my side, but the skin has no sensation. I'm hoping that the feeling will come back, eventually. I'm thinking the odds are pretty good, since my body is bouncing back from this a million times better than I could have hoped. The weirdest side effect is that my right hand is always warm now, and my left hand is still frigid. I've always had cold hands, so it's a little weird to have a warm one. Maybe I should knit myself one glove or something...

The best, very coolest part about this stage of the recover is that sometimes, I can forget that I'm recovering. I can forget about the whole ordeal, because it's just become a part of me. Perhaps forget isn't the best word for it, you can't just forget this sort of thing. But it's more assimilated, it sticks out in my brain less. The scar doesn't bother me as much (most of the time) and it's a little less obvious (it helps that i don't dress like a tramp). This morning, I left something upstairs and we were running a few minutes late for work. So I hustled up the stairs, grabbed what I needed, and headed back down at speed. I was a little breathless, but considering that less than six months ago, it took me minutes rather than seconds to get up or down the stairs, I'm thinking a little breathless is pretty okay.

That's all the thrilling health news I have for you today, but I do have two exciting announcements. I have secured to special guest bloggers for a little later on in the month. Both have been tentatively assigned to write an essay about my supreme awesomeness, or whatever else catches their fancy. We'll see how that goes. Announcement the second: I'm bringing on a feature I used to use back when myspace was still cool enough for me to blog on. I'll be ending most of my blogs (those with real content, anyway) with a wrap-up, sort of a blog-lite, if you will. That way, should you be pressed for time, or should you just want the abbreviated version of the blog, you can enjoy it. I promise, though, there will never be a pop quiz... Or, will there?

In review:
--Healing is going well. I can do crazy stuff like walk and move and climb stairs.
--Special guests will be blogging later in the month. Woo, guest blogging!
--I sometimes cheat and put silly things in the review, like statements about rubber ducks, that don't show up in the actual blog.
--For instance, Jim has flatly refused to get me a pair of angora bunnies for Christmas

Things That Make Me Happy

Because hey, it worked for Momolla, right? There are a lot of things that make me happy, and I'm sure I don't mention them as much as I should.

The way the house smells when I cook a real, balanced dinner makes me happy. I can't help but smile when I look at my handspun. The merino I'm working on now might just be too beautiful to part with, though I'm pretty sure it's going to be knitted into a gift.

The ridiculous height of the bed now that we have a good mattress makes me happy. Sure, I could break a rib if I fall off. But I have a real mattress. Mmmm, sleeping well. The way Jim tucks me in when he wakes up and gets out of bed before me makes me feel all warm and smooshy inside, especially when he thinks I'm still sleeping and does it, anyway. And the way he always kisses me goodbye before one of us goes somewhere is pretty neat, too.

Spending an hour on the phone with one of my Jersey Girls is a sure-fire way to lighten my mood. Calling Momolla to catch up is another way to make me grin. Talking to Dadumms is an extra bonus.

The stacks of books all over the house make me happy. Sure, they're clutter and they're in my way most of the time. But, well, they're books, and they are my true addiction. Likewise, the tote and basket full of yarn and fiber are pretty cool. Hand-knit socks make me happy like no other knitted good can, though the satisfaction of finishing a project with my own two little hands is a pretty great feeling.

Blogging, and all the friends I have made through the wonders of the internet, are also pretty damn cool. I get to see and share slices of all your lives, and without this awesome system of tubes and gnomes and magic, I'd never have met any of you.

And also, chocolate makes me happy. So does jogging up the stairs when I forget something, and only being a little winded (well, okay, kinda winded). Not waking up and feeling sore and tender is also pretty awesome. Being able to move and breathe and feel like me, well, that probably makes me happiest of all.

Social Butterfly

I wonder if there were always this many opportunities for me to go out or spend time with people, or if they've only started now that I have weekends off. Today's blog comes to you after a day trip to the PA Renaissance Faire and before going to a friend's house for a moon gazing party. Thankfully, there's nothing planned tomorrow, so I'll have time to relax and spin and read and clean and just be. As I keep telling Jim, having plans is a symptom of having friends, and that's a good thing. It's just been overwhelming this past month, and I am declaring the second weekend of October to be a free weekend. I will not go anywhere, I will not fulfill any obligations, social or otherwise. I will simply stay home and goof off. Everybody needs the occasional day to putz around the house, and I haven't had one of those in ages. Not that I at all mind spending time with my friends and loved ones. It just gets to be draining, especially after a full week of working. I still don't have a lot of stamina, and I get tuckered out pretty quickly.

So, the Renaissance Faire. If you've never been to one, the easiest way to describe it is to have someone imagine the nerdy kids in high school and their friends, parents, and grandparents all role-playing together. There's a huge estate that hosts this every year, and people come from, well, all over, to wander the faire and look at jugglers and jousts and fairies and pirates and, of course, the Queen. All the Faire employees are dressed in costume and speak in Olde English. It's a lot of fun, especially if you don't take yourself too seriously. There are activities for children and adults alike, and plenty of shows to see and places to shop and eat. You can get a whole turkey leg (tasty, but messy), some of the wine made at the estate (it happens to be a reputable winery, they have the best sangria wine i've ever had), a corset, trinkets and baubles of every type, armor, battle-ready weaponry (which has to be 'peace tied', or basically disabled while you're on the grounds), and all manner of period-appropriate costumes. It really is quite an experience, and the drive out to the estate is lovely, lots of trees and rolling fields.

I've been trying to be as frugal as possible, and not buy things that don't qualify as a need (thus, there was no wine purchased today, i was the model of restraint), but I did pick a Tree of Life neclace up for myself. It's just the right size and design, and it's lightweight. Hopefully, it's sterling silver. I'll find out the hard way if it isn't within the next day or so (the one time i had a belly ring that wasn't surgical steel or pure silver, i had a horrible reaction within twenty-four hours, it was not good times). I hope it is, because I'm lazy and I like to wear jewelry that's special to me every day, rather than changing out lots of different pieces.

And now, my dears, it is time for me to grab a bite and then head out to gaze at the moon. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your weekend, and have some of the perfect weather we're finally getting to see around here.