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Yesterday was a really crappy day that turned good at the end.  I was mad at the world (I don’t understand men, I never will, and I’m beginning to think that I don’t want to), and I was in  pain.  I keep hurting myself at dancing.  Last Wednesday I put a little too much oomph into a swivel and felt something give in my right hip that really shouldn’t give.  Then on Monday I caught the side of my foot on the floor at Wright State and ended up turning my ankle pretty badly.  Thankfully, the guy I was dancing with was big enough and experienced enough that I could grab on to him, so I didn’t fall, but it still hurt.  I was doing better yesterday morning, but then I went to tap, where our teacher had us doing these things were you start balanced on one foot, jump, switch feet in the air, and then tap the toe of your now free foot on the floor behind you when you land.  They’re pretty cool, but they hurt like hell.  I was in quiet tears a few times from pain and sheer frustration at this body of mine that wasn’t doing what I wanted it to do!  Hanging out with Jesus in the Eucharistic chapel between classes didn’t help much.  When I ran into JohnnyCakes on my way to class, he didn’t even say anything, just got down off the wall he was sitting on and opened his arms to give me a hug.  That made me leak a little too.

However, that was when things started turning towards the better.  JohnnyCakes was waiting for me when I got out of class, and we were able to talk for a while.  I love my cousin, and I just don’t get to see him enough, so this was really good.  Then after my last class I went to Women’s Group, where they listened to all my whining, and then made me laugh so hard that I couldn’t breathe.  (I love those women so much!)  Then I met up with Rosie, and we went to go see Stranger Than Fiction, which I think is now my new favorite movie ever.  Ev-er.  It was so good that I think we’re going to have to go see it again once or twice when it’s in the cheapies, and then buy ourselves a copy so we can cherish it forever.  I really, really, really liked that movie.  And I got to have some good talks with Rosie, and it was a good time.  And then I went home, went to bed, and didn’t wake up until about ten minutes ago.  For the first time in a while I wasn’t clenching my hands when I woke up, and the song Oo-Ee-Bob-A-Lee-Bob (I think that’s how you spell that) was in my head.  So for this exact moment in time, I’m doing ok.  And it feels good.

The movie last night made me think about something.  It made me think about gifts, and what really matters in the gifts a man gives a woman.  I’ve had discussions about this before, mostly with ‘SupDoc.  We were talking about when a guy cooks for a girl.  She says that the guy gets major points just for cooking something at all, and then extra points if it’s good.  I said that it’s cool that he cooked, but what matters is if what he cooked shows that he pays attention to the girl and knows what she likes.  If it’s something tailored specifically to that girl, then it doesn’t matter whether he prepared it well or burned it to a crisp.  What matters is that he showed that he actually knows who this one particular girl is.  See, I think that’s the key.  Women want to be noticed.  They want to know that their guy sees and loves who they really are in all their individual, unrepeatable uniqueness.  They want to know that it’s not all the same in the dark.  In the movie, the hero brings the woman he’s pursuing (a baker) flours.  Not flowers, flours.  Barley flour, wheat flour, etc.  It was so awesome and touching, and when I got what he had in his hands I folded my hands against my chest, went all gooey-eyed and (I’m not ashamed to admit it) softly squealed.  It was just so perfect.  It showed that he actually saw her, and wanted her (not just any member of the female sex).  And that’s what counts.