Absence of flowers
Last week marked Convocation Day (Graduation Day) at one of the local universities. Two of my housemates rigged themselves up in flowing robe, sash and mortarboard, and went up on stage to receive their scrolls.
I wasn't able to be there, but I came home to find the living room overflowing with bouquets of flowers, small gifts, and a HUGE soft toy.
It caused me to remember my own Convocation with wistfulness - though that glittering night had been a personal triumph and a great joy, with Dad beaming proudly and camera flashbulbs going off almost without pause, I missed not having flowers. Mom and Dad wouldn't have thought of it (besides which, bouquets at the venue were hideously overpriced). My parents are... not sentimental. But I am.
Sort of.
There is a part of me which is sentimental and romantic, which loves flowers and pretty things. Then there is the other part of me which is practical and pragmatic, which wonders what on earth I'd do with those things, and thinks they would just be "in the way". They fight for supremacy, these two sides of me. Usually the pragmatic one wins out.
Sour grapes, don't you know. For I've never been presented with a bouquet of flowers. Never in (almost) 25 years.
I've never had a "real" date, a date date, never had a boyfriend, so maybe that explains it... or maybe it doesn't. I'm not sure.
It would be nice to have flowers on my 25th birthday. But I'm not holding my breath :)