No, your eyes do not deceive you. This is a new post. Don't ask where I've been, (Italy, France, Mexico, New York, Israel), or what I've been doing, (eating, shopping, sun bathing, eating, procrastinating, eating). Let's just focus on the fact that I'm back, and clearly, a bee has buried herself deep enough in my bonnet to whip my mental sludge into a frenzy and force me to take to the blogosphere and pontificate on something I find substantially annoying: Valentine's Day. Specifically, how I'm expected to feel about Valentine's Day.
Personally, my sentiments on the occasion can be summed up in one elegant, monosyllabic word — meh. I feel no resentment whatsoever towards happy couples who use this day to reaffirm their love for one another. Please, go forth and splurge on dinner, flowers, jewellery, lingerie, sex toys. Lord knows our retail economy needs the shot in the arm. Stare deeply into your love's eyes, gesture as grandly as your wallet will allow, kiss with tongue! Just don't expect me to look longingly at you as tears well up in my eyes. Nor should you expect to find me slumped at the bar, slurring lonely-cat-lady clichés like, "José Cuervo is all the man I need!" while flashing the bartender some skin. I just don't care that much. Besides, I don't need an excuse to drink tequila.
I've certainly celebrated my fair share of Valentine's days. I've cooked special dinners, lit scented candles, worn kinky panties, waxed, polished, buffed and disrobed. And you know what? Save for the uncomfortable underwear, it always felt like just another day. In fact, the last time I celebrated Valentine's Day with a boyfriend, everything we were required to do was done by 10pm and we started calling around to see what everyone else was up to. If memory serves, I cozied up to both my boyfriend and José that night.
This year, I don't have one special someone, I have several. I went skiing with one special girlfriend last night and tonight will likely go to the movies with another. Monday I'll spend with a small group of special pals, while Tuesday I'm having dinner with a special friend and respected colleague. And I spend every day with my most favourite of the specials, my dog. I want to apologize to my sisters out there, both single and spoken for, who think I should feel sad or lonely, elated or entranced by this day. In truth, all I feel is ambivalent. And maybe a little hungry.
But if it makes you feel any better: I love you. Yesterday, today and tomorrow.