Having been told very specifically in a comment on a previous post that it was perfectly fine to blog about my girlfriend (“so long as there are no cringeworthy stories involved”), I decided to try my hand at the competition on Flowersmadeeasy.ie. The first thing to explain is that the title refers to an Elliott Smith song, one that rings true for me. For those not in the know, I’m currently studying in Angers, a town in France. I met and fell for my girlfriend in Dublin, Ireland, and she is still living there. Living apart from her for the nine months of Erasmus has been more difficult than either of us had expected, however we are persevering and looking forward to me being back in Dublin at the end of May. While I’m here, I have noticed that there are many many things that remind me of her. So, allow me to give you a few examples of these things.

Fionn Regan

One of my all-time favourite singer/songwriters. Why does he remind me of her? She hates him. As in, loathes him. His music gives her migraines. Really, it does. I’ve never heard of that before. I still love him, and secretly listen to him when she’s not around. Shhhh don’t tell her.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

One of her favourite films. Having seen it myself, I can attest to its extreme campness, and how wonderful its songs are. Watch it. Now.

Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusions

We were in Paris and I noticed that she had this book with her. Incidentally, we’re both atheists. Her generous nature meant that when I mentioned that I wanted to read it she offered it immediately. Actually, I should finish this before I get back to Dublin on Friday (Just in time for V Day).

So, that’s music, a movie and a book. I’ll do one more (I swear I could write a book about the things that remind me of her, but I don’t think anyone else but us would be interested in that!)

Food

All food. Really. We’re both vegetarians (no, she didn’t force me into it, as much as my parents want to believe that!) and the entire process of food preparation, from wandering the aisles of Tesco (I feel completely useless when I’m shopping with her; she knows exactly what she wants and where to find it, while I mindlessly meander through the aisles) to searching for very specific spices in the Asian market beside the Jervis St. Luas stop, to buying TVP in the health food store, to her kicking me out of the kitchen, to actually eating the food, to curling up on the sofa having over-indulged. Pizza with loads of extras thrown on, chunky home-made chips with home-made garlic mayonnaise. Quorn escalopes with mashed potatoes and roast veg. And that ravioli thing. Wow I love food. It’s something that I hate doing on my own (Actually, herself discovered a study that said that people who eat meals alone are more likely to eat more and be overweight) and having someone with very similar food tastes as me is amazing. Anyway, look at me rambling on about food.

 

So, without even touching on the photo that I have of her from Paris (that reminds me of her), the photo that I took of a red mushroom in the south of France that she got printed of canvas (that reminds me of her), my favourite jeans  (they remind me of her) or the book on Irish photojournalism that she bought me (that reminds me of her) I think you get the picture.

So, there you have it. It might not be particularly romantic, or interesting to anyone else but me and her, but for me it’s been great fun. It’s very soothing, writing all this stuff down.

So, to Herself: Happy Valentines Day. May we stay together until Dylan Moran in September, and then find another reason.

Now, just to have the patience to wait til Friday. I can’t wait.