Hearts and chocolate, cha cha cha!

I was the only girl in the flower shop yesterday. The rest of the patrons were anxious-looking guys placing orders for "something red" or "you know, not too Valentinesy" at quarter to six while covertly glancing at their watches, visibly assessing travel time between the flower shop and whatever cozy, candlelit restaurant they'd selected, after much heavy dropping of hints, for a romantic evening.

Mitch and I are generally pretty low-key about Valentine's (we've been known to forget it altogether), but last night we splurged on dinner at Chiribin's and a fancypants bottle of wine, and I had the delightful experience of presenting him with a single orange Gerber daisy and making him blush furiously. Our only code has been "no pressure"--as in, some years he'll get me something and it'll be all the sweeter because it was unexpected, and sometimes I'll embarrass him publicly by bursting into "You're Nobody Til Somebody Loves You" at the dinner table, or making him haul around a heart-shaped cellophane balloon that says something great like "Sweetcakes" on it in white script (haven't done that last one yet, but you can bet it'll happen), and sometimes we'll do nothing at all.

I like it this way, particularly because I'm not the one being serenaded by off-key Dean Martin songs. I feel that Valentine's loses a bit of its appeal (you know, the spontaneous expressions of love) when certain gifts are expected, or hinted at, or openly requested. I'd rather have a silly handdrawn card out of the blue than a dozen roses on the fourteenth. But of course that's just me.


bugorama said...


Sean said...

Guess Who?

Yea, you are correct, it's that One Kid who can't seem to keep his time straight.

"There is a time and place for everything," a character said in some recent cartoon, "and it's called college."

...at least that is my excuse for now.

Aside from the typical (your simple, straight writing that screams "Yea, just IMAGINE if it was your job!")...yesterday I had the random pleasure of chatting with a couple of Bruce Hornsby's band members. Next year I am officially a professional writing tutor (hopefully this job will turn out much more entertaining than the last), and I purchased a card for my mother...she turned 49 yesterday. The front of the card, shit-loads of glitter accenting a princess and pony and everything else pink-like. "To a Wonderful girl turning 5" it says on the front face. I grabbed a permanent marker and scratched the line to..."To a Wonderful Girl ALMOST turning 50!"...the big black Zero hanging off the edge.

I don't think she will grasp the humor, if there is any to begin with.

I can't promise I'll be back...but I will. (The logic works, trust me.) I needed to find you to let you know your shit is pristine to an extent I am in debt to your words.

Not a compliment...

Just a fact.

PS...What do you think? I was staring in the bathroom mirror when I came up with a great line...

"Are you a pessimist?"
"No, I'm a journalist."

I'm going to adopt it, I think.

Much love.

trypto said...

Silly handdrawn Valentine's Day cards are cool beans. I made a few myself.

This comment's word verification is: PHESCLS.

Pink Hippopotomuses Enjoy Sappy Corny Love Songs.

Thea said...

Hey! Look who hasn't died! I was just thinking about you the other day, wondering what that rascally Sean has been up to, since one can't tell from reading his blog (oo, guilt trip).

Writing tutor: that kicks ass. Good luck. I'll have to stop by your site and harrass you further.