Lo and behold… it is the week of February 14th. While many of my friends will be lamenting their single status and posting the joys of being single while secretly drinking their woes away with liquid courage and indulging in pint after pint of Ben & Jerry’s (the best threesome a girl could wish for) over some fashionably cheesy chick flicks, I’ll be doing… well.. something different.
No, this isn’t the cheesy blog post you were looking for.
That comes later, I can assure you.
I’ll actually, you know, have a Valentine this year.
Fernando isn’t exactly super excited about the prospect, but that’s okay. Guys don’t have to be. Valentine’s Day is traditionally more about the girl, and everyone knows Fernando isn’t the kind of guy who only shows his affection when he has to, like on holidays and birthdays.
He’s insisted all along he won’t be doing anything special for Valentine’s Day simply because he sends me flowers when he feels like it and does special things with me all the time.
He’s the perfect Valentine all the time. Well, that was cheesy. He’s not perfect, but for the purposes of making me feel loved, he is.
That said, since we both work Valentine’s until 6 pm for me and 7 pm for him, we’ll be going to dinner late and relaxing. I told him we didn’t have to do anything fancy. I’m just glad I get to see him because, gosh darnit, I’ve never had a Valentine, and I’m going to celebrate it with him just a little!
Yes, I’m girly. Yes, I’m sentimental. Yes, I want a Valentine, dangit.
So with less than two days to go until I get to see him for Valentine’s, I’m just feeling excited that I’ll get to smile and hug him and be all cutesy and couply. Because, let’s face it, I’ve never, ever, ever had a Valentine in my life.
I’m 20-something-years-old, and this is the first time I’ll have a legit, “I like you,” dinner date Valentine. I’m not going to miss it. I’m going to be super excited after dealing with ridiculous people who can’t be bothered to take any responsibility for themselves because, quite frankly, I don’t care if you are in debt or not. I’m going out with the guy I like when I get off the phone with you, and to heck with your blankety-blank account. In fact, if you’d please go jump off a cliff, things would be so much easier.
Well, maybe I shouldn’t ask people to jump off a cliff.
Though a little sense of personal responsibility wouldn’t go amiss… like, you know, actually acknowledging that you went into debt instead of just claiming it suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Because debt doesn’t appear, and babies aren’t delivered by the stork.
Sorry to kill your fantasies. Santa doesn’t exist either. And the economy is very broken and not looking up despite our fearless (political) leaders trying to convince us it is.
A little reality check for some people is definitely in order. But I suppose I’ll go into that later. Probably tomorrow since I have a very specific someone in mind whose particular brand of denial has reached levels even I’m impressed with.
For now… Valentine’s!
(I’m going to go be sappy and watch Downton Abbey now instead of listening to the President try to convince me he cares about me. Because if he did, he’d, you know, keep his promises and fix the economy so I could get a new job – and yes, this is what I’m talking about with the personal responsibility stuff, people.)