I think I’m the only one who really doesn’t like Valentine’s Day. Shudder. Everyone seems to make a big deal about this day. All the blogs, Pinterest, grocery stores, commercials, even my mom–they all attempt to flood me with love and light. And reminders to get everyone valentines. And flowers. And chocolate. Yeah yeah yeah. I GOT IT!
Happy stinkin’ V.D.!
What it is is the quintessential Hallmark holiday. And instead of love and light, I am filled with dread and annoyance. Sure, I guess some people do it up right, if right means sending luscious flowers to their loved ones (you DO know they are plant vaginas, right?) and cherishing this time-honored day with dinners, romance, and crotchless panties. I bet their Valentine’s cards profess undying love and devotion too. But for the rest of us, you’re either:
(a) Disappointed you didn’t get thought of.“Damn them all to Hades!”
(b) When you did get thought of it wasn’t in the way you wanted to be thought of. “I didn’t really FEEL the love in your 99¢ card and take-out Chinese, honey.”
(c) Surprised you got thought of and wipe the drool off your slack jaw. “Wow. You DO love me! And you’ve set the bar measurably high for the rest of your life!”
(d) OR you forgot altogether and feel really really (really) bad you didn’t get your mom and MIL a Valentine’s Day card. “Um. Thanks for all the thoughtful and handmade gifts you sent us, moms.” Seriously, thanks moms. I promise your minds will be blown on Mother’s Day–we’re all stocked up on glitter!
So cue my husband. If you haven’t noticed I don’t really like celebrating when society tells me I have to. Well, he had a brilliant idea for my Christmas present to take me to the ballet a couple of times this year. He listened when I mentioned I’d like to support the performing arts. And he came through. Out of nowhere. He showed me the love by listening–and that’s all I needed.
It just unfortunately happened to be on Valentine’s Day weekend. Gross. It was the first time we had gone out in years to celebrate on or near Valentine’s Day. We had amazing French cocktails at Peché. We laughed. We cried. And we passed the line of cars waiting to park at the ballet and kept going. And kept going. And. kept. going. I should have Übered just to drop us from our car to the venue. But I am über lame now and don’t go out much any more so I didn’t even think of it. A mile hike later and we have just enough time to order a cocktail and slide on in to the theater. And put Hello Kitty band aids on my blistered ankles. Whew!
Ballet Austin was performing Belle Redux: A Tale of Beauty and the Beast. I loved it. Edgy. Sexy. True to life with there’s-a-beast-in-us-all message. But I have to admit I was slightly disappointed after realizing there would be no rendition of “Be Our Guest.” I seriously envisioned a cabriolet-ing chorus line synchronized to “COURSE..BY…COURSE! ONE BY ONE!” Other than that, it was lovely.
On the way home we walked hand in hand, chatted about the performance, and got sprayed by the sprinklers in the field we were hiking through. It was a perfect, magical Valentine’s Day that I will never forget. Thank you, my sweet husband, for making my V.D. flare up with love and light.
The next day we told Nina all about our evening. And she couldn’t wait to join the troupe next year.
[Editor’s Note: For the record, I do NOT have a venereal disease as implied above, though no judgment for those of you out there that do.]