She's Writing a Novel

Spring is not my season. Toward the end of February I just sort of duck my head and hope it's all over soon. I feel much better come May. I don't know why this is; I hate the cold and dark that come with winter. On the other hand, I love coming in from the cold and dark to find warm and cozy. Spring denies me warm and cozy and forces me outside. Every year I am reluctant about this change. But by June I am again content, and thanks to heavy doses of vitamin D, even euphoric.

I started talking to the Russian lover in the middle of the worst month of the year - March. He reeled me in sometime during April. This all happened two years ago. If I were so inclined to speak in terms of anniversaries and attach significance that way, I would say this calls for a steak dinner or some such. However, I'm inclined to think a Tuesday in October or Thursday in July also call for a steak dinner. Hell, I think LIFE calls for a steak dinner. And the Russian lover feels the same way. This is why we get on so well.

My first boyfriend used to show me off to his guy friends by asking me in front of them "hey, when is our anniversary?" and I would get vaguely annoyed at the question and say something like, "I don't know, some day in early august? july maybe?" and he would love this answer and all the guys would be like "whoa. is this even a chick?"

In high school I remember people celebrating things like 3-month anniversaries and 7-month anniversaries. Monthaverseries. I guess 3 months is a milestone when you are, like, sixteen. But I still thought it was a strange occaision to buy presents and go out for dinner; what is the big deal about making out with the same guy for 7 months straight? Why do they have to sound the gong every time another month passes and he still hasn't dumped her for a cheerleader and she hasn't dumped him for a college boy? I think teenagers are just starved for significance. I have no other explanation.

"Special" celebrations in rememberence of moments or in recognition of days are nice, but I don't want to ever get in the habit of thinking that special things must be saved only for special moments. I want to buy champaign just because...every moment is worth toasting, even the rotten awful ones. Perhaps especially the rotten awful ones. Toasting the piss and shit of life is to spit in the face of perversity and mock evil when it comes to ruin your day. Whatever life pours me, I will insist on champaign.