Loves me not
Well, my suspicions seemed to be head on. Today's forecast was certainly dark and below zero. I never realized how much I enjoyed spending Valentine's Day alone with sappy love stories and lots of chocolate and junk food. Those things, tastefully combined, will never disappoint you. It is one thing to spend "the most romantic day of the year" alone and content on not getting anything special from anyone special and it is quite another to have someone special and still get nothing special. Or anything at all, really.
After work I went to Wal-Mart and bought red and pink heart napkins, red champagne glasses, a candy scented candle set, and an Italian leather wallet. At the time I believed it to be thirty dollars well spent (in addition to the sixty dollars I spent on the bunny). I then went home to get a nice days sleep.
I woke up extra early in hopes to make myself look like a supermodel for my significant other. Two hours later... not quite a supermodel but certainly done up. I looked good. I made it to Peking and I set up our booth, lit the candles, and waited for the magic to begin. Five minutes later Adrien comes in the door moaning and groaning and obviously exhausted but doesn't hesitate to tell me all about it. Happy Valentine's Day to you, too. I immediately felt stupid. Here I am all dressed up with champagne glasses and two red candles lighting up our corner of the dirty smelly old chinese restaurant just beaming with anticipation-- until my date arrives. What was I thinking? Why in the world would I expect a compliment? A "Wow, you look nice." Or, heaven forbid, "Aw, sweetie, this looks so terrific."
I had his present at hand. I asked him where mine was and he said that he'd wait and give it to me at the house. "Why?" Because he left it in the truck and he didn't want to go get it. Cool? No, not cool. I told him to go get it anyway. It wasn't wrapped. I knew exactly what it was, where he got it, and how much it cost. I got a paper cut opening the stupid card. It could be a sign because it hurts like hell. Remember the story about how he was going to get me flowers but found it too expensive (hello, WAL-MART?!?!?!)? And do you remember how I told him that he had better get me flowers because what he did for me on this very day would determine his love for me? I did get a single red rose. From Genie. The lady who owns Peking. Wasn't that so nice of her? Wasn't that SO NICE?
All I have to look back on this day is a rose from a stranger, a bruised heart, and a paper cut.
Happy Valentine's Day everybody.
After work I went to Wal-Mart and bought red and pink heart napkins, red champagne glasses, a candy scented candle set, and an Italian leather wallet. At the time I believed it to be thirty dollars well spent (in addition to the sixty dollars I spent on the bunny). I then went home to get a nice days sleep.
I woke up extra early in hopes to make myself look like a supermodel for my significant other. Two hours later... not quite a supermodel but certainly done up. I looked good. I made it to Peking and I set up our booth, lit the candles, and waited for the magic to begin. Five minutes later Adrien comes in the door moaning and groaning and obviously exhausted but doesn't hesitate to tell me all about it. Happy Valentine's Day to you, too. I immediately felt stupid. Here I am all dressed up with champagne glasses and two red candles lighting up our corner of the dirty smelly old chinese restaurant just beaming with anticipation-- until my date arrives. What was I thinking? Why in the world would I expect a compliment? A "Wow, you look nice." Or, heaven forbid, "Aw, sweetie, this looks so terrific."
I had his present at hand. I asked him where mine was and he said that he'd wait and give it to me at the house. "Why?" Because he left it in the truck and he didn't want to go get it. Cool? No, not cool. I told him to go get it anyway. It wasn't wrapped. I knew exactly what it was, where he got it, and how much it cost. I got a paper cut opening the stupid card. It could be a sign because it hurts like hell. Remember the story about how he was going to get me flowers but found it too expensive (hello, WAL-MART?!?!?!)? And do you remember how I told him that he had better get me flowers because what he did for me on this very day would determine his love for me? I did get a single red rose. From Genie. The lady who owns Peking. Wasn't that so nice of her? Wasn't that SO NICE?
All I have to look back on this day is a rose from a stranger, a bruised heart, and a paper cut.
Happy Valentine's Day everybody.