VD
... doesn't just stand for Valentine's Day, kids.
But anyway...
I would love to enjoy Valentine's Day again. Maybe it's because I've become so cynical in general, but these past few years the day just irritates me.
One year, my (un)boyfriend and I were going to go hit up McD's and see a movie. There was a nice chain events that led to The Day of Suck.
-He was late calling, so I turned on the stove to cook a pizza and went back into the living room to watch TV.
-Notice something strange in that last sentence? That's right, I turned on the stove, not the oven. When I'd gotten home that day, I'd placed my geometry notebook (which contained a full week's work I'd actually done for a change, ready to be turned in) on the stove, and my dad's really cute kitty v-day card nearby. The pizza sheet with pizza was sitting on top.
--The geometry notebook was smoldering, filling much of the house with smoke. (Dad's awful about replacing the smoke alarm.) My brand-new notebook had a giant HOLE in it, all that work gone.
--Half of dad's cute v-d card was burned away.
--I singed the linoleum when I threw the notebook on the floor and dumped water on it to put it out before it caught fire.
--I didn't think about the fact that the pizza was probably thawed from the heat, and the center 6" were too burned to eat.
--At 9:30 pm, he finally called ... from the hospital. He'd broken his leg and had to have emergency surgery to put a metal rod in his leg.
A few years later, I spent what should have been my first V-Day with Alex (aka Psycho-boy) wishing he weren't on vacation.
Year after that, he was back. V-Day would extend for an entire wonderful weekend. We went to the mall and I got my hair dyed red, we blew ten bucks in quarters playing Time Crisis and having WAY too much fun, then went to Lady Vic's and got me some new pretties. Friday, we went to Chico Hot Springs up in the mountains, a wonderful spa-type place with lots of activities. That's where things came unglued. End result? I moved halfway across the country to get away from him.
Since I've been with Robb, V-Day hasn't sucked per se but it hasn't been spectacular, either. He's probably been half-afraid to do anything at all, considering how much noise I make about hating it.
Whenever I've had a 'good' v-day, it seems something's come along and screwed it up. Bah. Part of me just has high expectations, and that's just dumb.
Consider this my yearly 'Rant about Valentine's Day' post.
Carry on.
But anyway...
I would love to enjoy Valentine's Day again. Maybe it's because I've become so cynical in general, but these past few years the day just irritates me.
One year, my (un)boyfriend and I were going to go hit up McD's and see a movie. There was a nice chain events that led to The Day of Suck.
-He was late calling, so I turned on the stove to cook a pizza and went back into the living room to watch TV.
-Notice something strange in that last sentence? That's right, I turned on the stove, not the oven. When I'd gotten home that day, I'd placed my geometry notebook (which contained a full week's work I'd actually done for a change, ready to be turned in) on the stove, and my dad's really cute kitty v-day card nearby. The pizza sheet with pizza was sitting on top.
--The geometry notebook was smoldering, filling much of the house with smoke. (Dad's awful about replacing the smoke alarm.) My brand-new notebook had a giant HOLE in it, all that work gone.
--Half of dad's cute v-d card was burned away.
--I singed the linoleum when I threw the notebook on the floor and dumped water on it to put it out before it caught fire.
--I didn't think about the fact that the pizza was probably thawed from the heat, and the center 6" were too burned to eat.
--At 9:30 pm, he finally called ... from the hospital. He'd broken his leg and had to have emergency surgery to put a metal rod in his leg.
A few years later, I spent what should have been my first V-Day with Alex (aka Psycho-boy) wishing he weren't on vacation.
Year after that, he was back. V-Day would extend for an entire wonderful weekend. We went to the mall and I got my hair dyed red, we blew ten bucks in quarters playing Time Crisis and having WAY too much fun, then went to Lady Vic's and got me some new pretties. Friday, we went to Chico Hot Springs up in the mountains, a wonderful spa-type place with lots of activities. That's where things came unglued. End result? I moved halfway across the country to get away from him.
Since I've been with Robb, V-Day hasn't sucked per se but it hasn't been spectacular, either. He's probably been half-afraid to do anything at all, considering how much noise I make about hating it.
Whenever I've had a 'good' v-day, it seems something's come along and screwed it up. Bah. Part of me just has high expectations, and that's just dumb.
Consider this my yearly 'Rant about Valentine's Day' post.
Carry on.