The Sixth Love Language

Gary Chapman is a genius, but I think he made a little mistake when he wrote this book:

Now, don't get me wrong. I agree with everything that is in this book. I grew up with my mom telling me about the five different love languages, as described by Gary Chapman. They are:

1. Quality Time
2. Acts of Service
3. Words of Affirmation
4. Gift Giving
5. Physical Touch

I grew up knowing that it was important to pay attention to someone else's love language, because that is how they feel cared for. I would try to figure out my friends' love languages, so I would know how to treat them so they felt special. My love languages are the first two on that list - quality time and acts of service. If you want to hang out with me and spend time with me, I feel special and valued. Likewise, if you do something nice for me (even if it's like... organizing something for me or filling up the gas tank, unloading the dishwasher etc.) I will feel special. I guess you could say that quality time is my #1 love language, and acts of service is #2. I love them both. The reverse is also true: if I want to hang out with you and spend a lot of time with you, it means that I like you a lot, or if I want to do things for you, it means I like you a lot.

I think love languages are just as important as knowing someone's personality. They help explain how that person works. I also think that love languages are the reason behind so many failed relationships and marriages. If you have a woman whose love language is acts of service, and a husband who never helps her around the house or with the kids, the woman may turn to nagging him about it. The man just thinks she is cranky and annoying, but really, she just wants to feel loved. And the best way for her to feel loved is for her husband to give her a hand with things.

So I really do agree with Gary Chapman. I think this book is excellent. But I still think he made one tiny mistake.

There is a sixth love language.

I know this because I am convinced that I have it. I have been trying to put this one thing into one of the other five categories, but I'm not sure that it really fits.

That one thing is the love language of letters.

Letters. Notes. Messages. Emails. Wall postings. Post-its. Blog comments. Cards.

It doesn't matter what it is, I love it.

I get absolutely ecstatic if I get a letter from someone, emails included. When I sign onto Facebook and see "Inbox (1)" I start dancing around the room and making up songs. A big smile breaks out on my face, and sometimes I start to giggle. I love letters. I don't know why, but when someone takes the time to send me something, it makes my day! It could be as simple as a "hi" (seriously, that's all it would need to say), but it will still make my day. So, if you send me letters/messages/whatever, I probably love you by now. And if you don't... don't feel bad. I still love you! And just to clear something up: I would much rather have someone spend time with me or do something nice for me than write me a letter. Heck yes.

I think I will have to write a letter to Gary Chapman and inform him of his slight error. I'm convinced that it's an actual love language. I have it.

Every morning on my walk between Pilates and Statistics classes, I pass this wonderful tree in Academic Plaza. Every time I see it, I think about how great it would be to climb it and sit on this one particular branch, overlooking the plaza. Maybe I will one day. But someone would need to come with me, because climbing a tree by myself may be difficult, and it could also make me look ridiculous.

I am starting to believe that John Mayer might just be my favorite musician ever. He is melodic, edgy, contempative and pensive. I never get tired of his music. I pretend that they don't play him on Candy 95. Because I consider almost everything they play on there trash. And John Mayer is way above trash. Now, to see him live...

I have a full hour before my next class. I wish there were comfy couches in Blocker!

Do you know what I think is ridiculous? When students have crushes on their teachers. And by students, I mean college students. And by teachers, I mean youngish professors or grad students. It makes me feel awkward.

My statistics teacher is a grad student, and so he's pretty close to our age. He's also really buff and has ginormous muscles, and is pretty good looking and funny. And you can tell that some of the girls really like him. One or two in particular. They will try to tease him or be sarcastic with him, joking around and... basically flirting with him. It makes me absolutely sick. Seriously, girls.

I found out the other day that my mom reads my blog. So, I have two things to say:
1. Hi, mom!
2. You should start blogging again, for real.

Maybe I will go find a couch somewhere. I am incredibly tired, still.

Peace out.

-klh