There comes a point in…

There comes a point in journalling when you haven't posted in several days, and then you don't want to post because there's so much you meant to say which you hadn't gotten around to, and you need to block out a big block of time for it, which you don't have, so you don't post and don't post and don't post. I'm breaking the cycle now, with this brief note to say Valentine's Day was lovely (I started it by watching pairs figure skating and ended it with Kevin making me dinner) and the rest of the week was very busy, mostly taken up with school stuff -- prep and teaching and grading and such.

Today, much socializing; brunch with friends, dinner with family, and if I have the energy, a birthday party with Reehan and Sophia. Tomorrow, quieter, but with four hours of SAPAC meetings in the middle of the day. Monday, definitely must write.

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a belated Valentine's Day poem
for a boyfriend who apologizes too much

braised artichokes and fennel
not overcooked no matter what you say
I like 'em mushy

pomegranate chicken
made with great effort
since they didn't have pomegranates
at the first store
and frustration
since they also didn't have
the cornish hens you wanted
for a fancier presentation
at first I thought
the whole walnuts
and pomegranate seeds
were chunks of bone
it's hard to tell by firelight

four kinds of creme brulee
the sugar had blackened
because you got distracted
and the creme
was rock hard in the center
because you froze it
trying to chill it in a hurry
and I kept thinking the mango
was something citrus-y
the vanilla bean didn't seem
more vanilla than normal
and the coffee creme
was too coffee

but I finished the lemongrass-ginger
the next day
and it was good
ditto the mango
which was perfect

and so okay
your dinner wasn't perfect
but neither are you
sweetheart
and I love you anyway.