if you like it then you should've put a ring on it

My left ring finger feels noticeably naked most of the time lately. I've been in long term relationships before and there was not even a second thought that something was missing. And I'm not referring to an age-induced belief or compulsion that I should be married by now. There's never been some kind of insistence on my getting married, from myself or others. Actually, my mother and I had a conversation years ago in which she insisted that there was no parental hopes for wedlock...just for happiness. If this happens to mean a marriage, then so be it, but I was told that I was to determine my own recipe for happiness. (As a side note, this is a rather awkward conversation to have with your parents when they've been happily married for over 25 years. I just kept wondering why she was so insistent on making this clear.) ‎
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The noticeable nudity of my left ring finger began a few months ago. It's like I can physically feel that something is missing, except that that something has never been there. I am a romantic, but am not unrealistic enough to automatically fall for this crap. However, it seems that from the moment I found the person that I would say yes to when asked that very special question, I have noted the absence on my left ring finger.

Perhaps it's a foreshadowing of the huge rock that will sit there one day?

Or maybe the beginning stage of Alien Hand Syndrome? Am I going to hell if I couldn't stop laughing while watching this?

nanowrimo has come and gone once again

It's really hard to write, whether it's just a blog or something more, when you're having a month or more long fit of self-loathing. Every word I put on a page just seems ridiculous and inadequate, as though I'm pretending I even have a right to be writing it in the first place. Perhaps if I have another glass of wine not only will the words will come spilling forth, but I'll actually approve of them.

Or maybe I'll just get drunk and fall asleep with my clothes on.