So I was driving to New Orleans a couple days ago for a meeting and I started thinking about my most dreaded day of the year. Valentine's Day. Now I know that I have already ranted on this topic, but for some reason I just can't shake it. It's widely known that, save for the unemployment and all that crumbles around me, my heart is happy these days. Maybe for the first time in a very long time I experience Valentine's Day in such rare form. With a happy heart I mean, not unemployed. Yes, I have mentioned that we have plans, and he has told me that there are a couple surprises built in, at which point I sat on his stomach until he got the hint that I don't do surprises very well, not on February 14th. :)
My first REAL Valentine's Day (aside from the candy and cards in elementary school) was in 1998, and with him I shared the next 4. His gift to me was a dozen white carnations and a balloon. And I was heartbroken. Don't really know why, don't really even know what I expected. Not even 10 years later. But whatever hype about the sentimentality and romanticism portrayed on this one day was not met, in my eyes. So why do I hate Valentine's Day? Because I've never had a good one. The hype is irrational, it's expected, so I avoid it. It's easier just to bitch.
I know this isn't some grand revelation, but it makes me feel better, just acknowledging it.
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