Friday, March 9, 2012

Amateur Domesticity

At this time last year, or perhaps even this time last week, a Friday night alone would have resulted in wallowing. I would have fallen into the Slough of Despair, which is only deepened by my taste for melancholy music. Or perhaps into the Mire of the Internets, aided and abetted by StumbleUpon and my penchant for mindless self-distraction. It was a close call. I was listening to Christina Perri on YouTube and clicking "Stumble" to my own discontent.

And then I snapped. It was just a little snap, like a hair tie on the skin. I decided to "do" something. I got out of bed, put in my Sense and Sensibility DVD, and, had I been wearing long sleeves, I would have rolled them up. It has been some hours since my underwhelming snap. My activities are thus: I have transcribed the 300 words I wrote today. I have made (and eaten) Swedish pancakes. I frosted a cake. I have a loaf of bread baking in the oven. I wrote my dear friend Sanna a letter. I am currently writing a blog and watching Pride and Prejudice whilst drinking a cup of tea. I have painted my toenails. Perhaps I will do some yoga and some more writing before bed.

I feel, if I dare say, very proud of myself. I have so far avoided the needless tears and self-pity that does nothing to console me. I have balanced productivity and relaxation. Hopefully, tomorrow morning I will be recharged for my morning run and another day of pleasant inanity. I am, therefore, content. However, I find myself craving a cute apron, an adorable tea set, and a kitten.

3 comments:

  1. There's not really any other kind of domesticity if you're talking about your own home, since our culture exploits the unpaid labor of women. Though I guess if you got paid to cook and clean in someone else's house that could be professional domesticity.

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  2. Thank you, B, for reminding me, your sister, about the state of women in society. And thank you for deciding to take issue with one word that I chose because 1) I like the word amateur, and 2) I am not, say, Martha Stewart. However, this blog is not the time or place for you to air grievances exposed to you through your sociology classes. This is where I write for pointless fun. It is not "to argue about stuff all the time," because "that’s not my bag," (You). Perhaps you should have taken your own advice and asked a clarifying question. And if you were trying to be funny, the topic of women was a poor choice.
    Besides, brother dear, you're just hating because you weren't around to eat what I made.

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  3. I like 1) Swedish pancakes and 2) that you wrote me a letter and 3) that you were productive. Go Alicia!

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