I love me. I really do, apparently – I listed all the symptoms into a search bar (Did you mean “Kanye West”?) and took a Buzzfeed test and everything. It’s legit. Dr Google says so. I, Shini Park, love spending time absolutely, completely alone.
With champagne, preferably.
I’ve written, time and time again, that my husband and I are keen observers of the Because-Why-the-Frick-Not day. We’ve done the ‘perfect date’ out, more times accidental than not, for reasons including but not limited to: the fact that there is sink full of dirty dishes at home and none of us remembers whose turn it is to clean, when the #Brexit landlady announces she would visit sometime during the day, or that time when I found a £5 note in an old coat and thought I’d treat us to a three-course dinner, a movie and some very expensive lingerie. Point is, we don’t need a reason to dig out champagnes flutes – every time I wear socks that match is a happy un-birthday, every time his spreadsheet runs without errors that’s a #MoetMoment. We are very happy. And highly cynical.
What we also are, are a pair of hardcore introverts. Ones that can only charge batteries by being completely alone in a quiet room, surrounded ideally by inanimate objects, preferably also occasionally hugged by a machine with arms made of wood. Do you have anything fun planned for Valentine’s Day? Someone asked me in an email a few weeks ago. Why yes, I do. I took a bottle of Limited edition Moët Rosé Impérial ‘Emoëticons’ to the other room, painted on every surface but my sketchbook, and stuck Moet Stickers (Also available as app in iOS and Android) on my body while screeching to Ciara’s My Body (to the dude’s despair). My best use of a Tuesday in February, maybe EVER.