I plumb forgot about Valentine's Day. Didn't even make a blip on my radar. I was reminded of the date only after getting a couple valentines in the mail; one from my favorite couple in the world, Deb and Richard, and the other from my dog. Such a thoughtful dog, no? Even if the envelope was a bit soggy with saliva.
But forgetting this date was a personal milestone. Because really, for single people Valentine's Day has the potential to be toxic, like sugar to a diabetic. In my younger, more naive days, I always felt such pressure: Gotta have a mate, gotta be in love, gotta have plans for romantic getaways and candle-lit dinners followed by oodles and oodles of hot n' heavy sex. With a George Clooney look-alike, of course.
Today, I'm not so picky. Cover me under your health insurance plan and baby, I'm yours.
But these two thoughtful cards did remind me of the date. Oh yeah, it's Valentine's Day. Hmmm, whaddya know.
That evening, I was invited to my best friend's home to join two other friends for a wonderful gourmet meal. Over a candle-lit dinner, our foursome shared concerns about the economy, critiqued Oscar-nominated movies, discussed problems at work and dreams for travel. We laughed, ate crab, drank wine and capped the evening with a decadent chocolate cake swimming in berries and whip creme.
And despite the absence of oodles of sex and with nary a glimpse of George Clooney, it was indeed a very fine evening. On Valentine's Day, no less. How'd ya like that?
But about that health insurance. If you have a plan, you may have my heart. Let's talk, shall we? Over a candle-lit dinner, of course.