Blacksy

Currently listening to "The Happiest Christmas Tree" by Nat King Cole. Coming from a Christmas and jazz music aficionado, this is probably the single worst Christmas song I've ever heard. Ever.

So these past few days, I've been spending time with my sisters in Davis. They work during the day, come home tired in the afternoon, and take me out at night. I wake up early, make breakfast for them, lounge around an unfamiliar apartment for a while, make lunch when they get back, and like the excited little child I am, go out with them after a tedious day of nothing, really. We come home, I make dinner, we watch a romantic comedy, chat about how unrealistic some films can be (but secretly wish otherwise), and go to sleep. Boring, right? No, not really. As unbecoming as it is for a woman in the 21st century to enjoy the likes of a housewife (read the description of my typical day again), I actually really like it. I like caring for my sisters, I like seeing a warm look of satisfaction and gratitude replace the glazed stare of hunger and weariness after a long day at work, I quietly swell up with pride when they ecstatically devour my home-cooked meals and are immediately re-energized to embark on a rainy night journey with me into downtown Davis. I repeat, as unbecoming as it is for a woman in the 21st century to enjoy the likes of a housewife, I wouldn't mind being a housewife (for how long, is the question). Not to say I don't want to get a job or be economically independent or anything of the sort. No, I sure as hell would, but I think being a housewife appeals to me because I like helping other people, and loving them, and sacrificing a little of myself for them. I like caring for other people, especially when the feeling is mutual, and in many ways, I've lost that feeling ever since I got to LA. In LA, I feel like everything is, in the words of the Beatles, "I, Me, Mine". I study for me. I do this for me. I do that for me. I feel so fucking selfish all the time. Don't get me wrong, there are people I really care about in LA, and while I can't be there for them all the time, I show them through little actions, like cooking for them, spending time with them, helping them study, playing a song for them, surprising them on their birthdays, walking to their apartment at 3:00 am in the morning to be with them, etc etc., you get the idea. And while I don't verbally express a lot of my sentiments (I'm extremely guarded with my feelings, it's not a very good trait), I show people they mean a lot to me through these actions, and if they're perceptive enough, they know I care. But my point is, I haven't found anyone in LA I would give 110% of myself to. I haven't found anyone I would drop my books for to do something as simple as, say, watch the sun rise or the rain fall. I haven't found anyone I would share my whole heart, body, and mind with. I suspect that's what one would call "love." And even though I personally haven't been in love, I miss that feeling. I know, you're probably thinking, that doesn't make any sense, because how could I miss something I've never felt? Well, then, maybe I have been in love, but I highly doubt that. I think I've been close to falling in love, but I don't think I could fall in love with someone who'd knowingly love me just for a day. And shit, with both sappy fairytale definitions and heartbroken "been there, done that" definitions of "love" being thrown at you left and right, who can really tell what love is nowadays? Nay, not me.

On a lighter note, I welcome you to: http://yummypicks.blogspot.com. My mantra: food and music make anything better.

Tactfully,
T.J.