I really love Valentine’s Day. Always have. Yes, it is a commercial holiday. Yes, it is terrible that people feel forced to demonstrate feelings they might not actually have by purchasing over-priced flowers or chocolates, both of which are no doubt the product of child labour and/or ridiculous pesticide usage. And yes, it’s a crappy day if you happen to have lost or been dumped by a significant other.
I was nine the first time I really enjoyed the crap out of Valentine’s Day. That morning, a boy named Nicholas left a box of chocolates and a rose on my desk. He was a bit of a trouble-maker, that Nicholas, so we couldn’t ‘go out’ publicly. Ezmy had a reputation as a nerd to uphold, after all. I wonder whatever happened to that kid. I hope he’s still a romantic.
In highschool, I was a member of a Vocal Jazz group that performed Sing-O-Grams on Valentine’s Day. Apart from singing the same song over and over (When I Fall In Love…vomit), Sing-O-Grams were super fun. My favourite year was when we went out to this garage in Errington and made a mechanic cry. Good times.
Some years, I’ve celebrated Valentine’s Days single and loved it. It’s a day of possibility in this case. A day when you might get an exciting note from a secret admirer. Or, more likely, a day to get drunk with other single ladies and lament the lack of handsome and available men out there.
And some years have been supremely disappointing or disasterous, even with a partner. One year, my bf at the time, let’s call him Douchebag, forgot about Valentine’s Day. He did end up sending flowers as a last minute thing, but then came home a few days later and informed me that he was moving out. Not breaking up with me, mind you. Just moving out and sticking me with double rent the next month (I left him in the end). Another year, when A. was in K-town, MM, LG, Fialonia and myself drank an OBSCENE amount of wine and somewhere in the evening I made the command decision to start smoking in my apartment. I woke up the next morning to the worst hangover and a house that smelled like ash tray. Blech.
This year, A. and I took it easy. I made some heart-shaped Chocolate Chunk Spice Cookies:
*pictured here with Sarah Silverman book for my sweetheart and flowers from my sweetheart*
and roasted a pig (poor sod, Ezmy will go back to being vegan soon…not that that helps you any). Oh, and I forced my child to wear Valentine’s Day finery. I’m a terrible mother:
*pictured here with Yellow Spoon, his favourite little toy*
Isn’t he the handsomest? Generally speaking I wouldn’t dress a kid up for Valentine’s Day but A.’s parents gave him this outfit and I was worried he’d outgrow it before we finally hit a special occasion.
A great Valentine’s Day with my menfolk. :D