Phew, it’s been a long day, guys. I woke up at 6:30 to shower and go to a couple of lectures related to the Smart Museum’s current exhibition on Avant-garde legacies in Postwar France. I often talk about my desire to go to Hyde Park more frequently, but then I actually go and remember why it’s a want that’s difficult to make a reality: my apartment the Smart Museum have the blue line, green line, and the 55 bus in between them. The overpowering winds in Chicago today didn’t help the trip, either. But, hey, at least the sun came out in the end.
But I made it there this morning. I was one of the few people not associated with the University of Chicago, but I met a woman who works in the Art Institute’s library. That place seems so mythical and inaccessible, but she reassured me that they welcome and encourage students of art and art history to come whenever we can. You can bet that I’ll be there next Thursday then, for sure. From the lecture then I came north to Lincoln Park to meet with an Italian tutor and then head straight to work. I’m not used to jam-packed days like this, but I enjoy them when they do come my way. There’s no time to over think, feel bored, or spend 20 minutes trying to decide whether I should keep my hat on or take it off which always ends with me keeping it on anyway. I did, however, take a moment to snap some pics of my outfit because, despite being out of foundation, being doomed to wearing a hat to hide my wind swept hair that constantly looks like sex hair no matter how much styling paste I use, and very little sleep, I look and feel pretty damn good today.
I was thinking about this post a lot as my reading deprivation was lifted on Wednesday and I was allowed to read all of these blog posts with their viewpoints on Valentine’s Day. Some people love it, some people state the obvious about how it’s a commercialization and bastardization of what love should be, some people are completely indifferent to it, etc. So almost everything that can be said about this polarizing Hallmark holiday has been said.
Here’s my two cents, and I think it falls in line with how a lot of people feel about Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc. It’s just another day, but I do think it is a good reminder to bring a little love into your life. And I’m not strictly talking romantic, either. I came into work this morning a little frazzled and my coworker/photographer extraordinaire Attila handed me a box of chocolates with a stupid cute cat on it. My mom sent my siblings and I a group text this morning about how much she loves us.
Both of these things almost made me start crying.
OK, so I cry easily (A few weeks ago I started crying in the car while listening to Elton John’s “Your Song,” because it is so freakin’ beautiful), but I think the point is, if someone is important in your life, whether platonically or family-wise, or yes, even romantic, you should let them know. A lot. It is easy to fall into patterns and assume these people know how much you care about them, but do you notice how much your day brightens up when someone you care about says, “I’m proud of you!” or “I really appreciate you being in my life.” IT’S LIKE GETTING 50 LIKES ON A SELFIE CONFIDENCE-BOOST-WISE. And don’t forget that one of these people you have to tell you love them is YOU. Look into the mirror and tell yourself you love yourself over and over until you believe it. I am not asking you to reach Ghandi self-actualization levels, but give yourself some love today (and everyday), too. You deserve it.
In honor of this lovely Hallmark Holiday, I AM sporting a lot of pink and red. I feel like a Valentine’s Day mascot. And I feel pretty good about it.
This morning the Art History Department sponsored a bus trip for a Pilsen Mural Tour (more of which I will post later, because it was wonderful). Of course, this required walking around in 10 degree weather for an hour. Although it was totally worth it, we looked like a bunch of frozen bundles by the end. But the sun was out, I have bright teal pants on, and I got to see some provocative art at the National Museum of Mexican Art afterward, so I feel really invigorated!
Last night I got my hair trimmed – something that was LONG overdue, especially since I decided it was a good idea to cut my own bangs back in December – and the woman who cut my hair kept saying how much I looked like a doll with the trim she was giving me. She confessed to being a little overworked/delirious, but she said it at least five times, her voice getting louder each time.
“Oh my GOD. You can pull off this hair because you look like a fucking doll. JESUS.”
She curled my hair under, said it again, and I was feeling pretty good. I thought to myself “I am gonna rock this baby doll look SO FUCK EVERYONE.” I don’t know why I said “fuck everyone” to myself, but I did. I decided that I was going to rock this winged eyeliner, curled under hair, superbabe look everyday. Unfortunately, I like to sleep in, don’t own a roundbrush, and take a total of five minutes to do my hair and make up in the morning. So I will have to settle for halfway there. I feel like the black sweater combined with this bodycon skirt adds some 60s French moodiness, though, so the look still works, yeah?
There is nothing more I’d like to do today then stay in bed and finish the book I’ve been reading and edit the story I’ve been writing. The cold is fierce today, making it hard to get out of bed to shower let alone look presentable enough for work. To fight the harsh winds, the gray, mushy snow, and the crushing defeat of knowing I have to go out into it, I threw on all the bright, rich colors I own. Tacky teal nail polish? Yup! The ring I inherited from my grandma brightens up my otherwise dry, pale skin, too. Plus a pink knit sweater and a purple lip and I already feel better about the day! That and the entire pot of espresso I drank (out of a bright yellow cup, naturally).