What's Your Love Language?

Happy Post-Valentine's Day Post!  I hope everyone is feeling adequately loved, or at least adequately comforted by chocolate.  These cupcakes were made by my oh-so-talented sister Juliana and they rest upon an old-school Strawberry Shortcake paper plate.   Remember old-school Strawberry Shortcake?

I so don't get why they made Strawberry Shortcake look all different now.  She had a good look going.

This Valentine's Day was unique because I had  conversations with various friends about  their "love language."

For those unfamiliar with the love language concept, a brief synopsis.  When Daniel and I got married, we received two copies of this book called THE FIVE LOVE LANGUAGES.  According to the author, everyone speaks one of five love languages.  So, to truly show love for someone, you must determine what says LOVE to them, and then act accordingly.  I have to admit I did not read this book, but I think the languages are: gifts, acts of service, quality time, words of affirmation and something else.  I don't know, look it up--supposedly this is a very popular book.

Because I am obviously anti-love, this book, and the concept never spoke to me.  I think Chomsky would say I lacked the "love language acquisition device" early in life. Case in point:


1.  THE WAY HE LIVED got great reviews from the fine bloggers at Fire and IceWriters Butt Does Not Apply to Me, and Reading List of A Book Pusher.  Every time a reader connects with my book, it feels like the first time ("It feels like the very first time").  Someone gets it.  I've been able to touch someone as an author, which has been my dream for as long as I can remember.

Not to mention the AMAZING review I got this week at  The Internet Review of Books. In her essay, fiction editor Julie McGuire lists THE WAY HE LIVED as one of her top 10 favorite YA books.  Ever.  Like, on the same list as John Green and Laurie Halse Anderson and Neil Gaiman and Suzanne Collins and even--wait for it--Sherman Alexie.  (I was going to link to one of my other posts about my obsession with Sherman Alexie, but which to choose?).

Me, sharing space with Sherman Alexie?  Feel the love.

2.  When he learned I was having trouble finding the sock drawer organizer I wanted, Daniel made me one!  While  I was online, trying to decide whether or not to pony up the $9.99 (plus shipping), he constructed a similar organizer from a cardboard box.  He knows how much I hate to spend money and thus hate traditional "gifts."  So this was like an act of service/gift/quality time hybrid.  As love languages go, I guess this was like speaking Esperanto to me.

3.  I get nightmares.  Every night.  And I wake up screaming, and Dan has learned that, much like a three-month-old, it is rare indeed for me to sleep through the night.  I remember my nightmares.  Vividly.  I also remember that some people have happy dreams, because why else would we call "dream come true" a "dream come true?"

I wanted a happy dream.  And this week, I had one!

If you haven't read about my awesome encounter with Sabrina, the current girlfriend of my high school crush Adam,  you must check it out, because in addition to it being the best story ever, it provides background for this dream.  So, for some reason I was back in high school, but this time it was chill, because for some reason I was happy to be there, and I was just walking along and I saw Adam and Sabrina (in real life, I don't know what Sabrina looks like, as we've never met).  And they were like, "hey!  Do you want to organize the prom?"  and I was like, "Heck yes!"

So for the prom the high school held a dinner, which was a traditional Sedar, because, you know, there's a big Jewish population in suburban Utah.   Afterward we had a dance, DJed by a rabbi who taught us a bunch of traditional Jewish dances.  In the dream, I was an excellent dancer, and I also knew the difference between left and right.

This is my love language, right or wrong.