Excuse me while I go throw up a little bit in my mouth.
THIS IS A HALLMARK HOLIDAY! ROOTLESS! INVENTED BY CAPITALISTS!
It is possible that i'm just sour because I've had a number of dreadful valentines experiences. The one that took the proverbial cake was during college. The very tall and cute, but flakey and annoying boy I had been trying to break up with decided to show up with a giant stuffed teddy bear.
I was, like, you really have no idea who you're with, do you?
I wasn't a stuffed animal person even as a child. It did make it easier to go through with the break up.
A fun Valentine's Day also occurred during college. At the time I was (blessedly) single. I spent the evening in the basement party room with the brothers and sisters of zeta-something or other, playing spin the bottle. Awesome. I had to kiss a short blond guy.
I do like to make stuff, so I usually buy a bunch of stickers and break out the glitter. The Hooligans dislike the store cards because they say actual sweet things. What if a girl were to take it seriously? The very thought freaks them out. So we make our own. They are highly decorated (there is nothing a hooligan likes more than going to town with the glitter), but with very basic messages--telegram-like:
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY, SO & SO. (Note: no exclamation point--that would denote enthusiasm.) FROM HOOLIGAN
The Man Who Lives In My House looks at me fretfully in the week or so before Valentine's Day. "Do I need to get you something?" he asks.
I have to tell you, that is IT, for me. This is ROMANCE! Because if I said, "Yes, I must have a diamond tennis bracelet right away, " I believe he would march out and get one. (note: I have never tested this theory.)
Which makes it completely true when I say, "No, I don't want anything. In fact, I'll be really irritated if you get suckered into the advertising bullshit. Let's just eat the kids' chocolate after they go to bed." Which is what we do.
|This picture was not taken on Valentines' Day. On Valentines, we wear sweatpants.|