My Funny Valentines

February 14, 2012


FROM THE ARCHIVES:
"Single & Fierce"

My Funny Valentines 
(February, 2009)

For many years of my life, I had the perfect Valentine.

He was consistent, dependable, loveable—and he knew how to make a girl feel special. It was my awesome dad, and he always left me and my sisters sweet treats and love notes on the kitchen table for us to discover when we woke up. He’d already have been long gone off to work, but his thoughtfulness made his girls feel loved and appreciated.

The second half of my life? Not as many cute stories to tell. However, in hindsight, they do provide some laughs:

In college, I dated an older man whose girlfriend followed us on a date, and confronted him upon his dropping me off at the end of the night. It was replete with dramatics, cursing, name calling and head-rolling. Valentine’s Day was about a week after that scene, and he sent roses and a bouncing Tigger doll (um…ok?) to my place of employment with a four page apology letter. It was just too ridiculous to keep a straight face over, so the romantic potential was kapooey. However, over ten years later, we’re still friendly. He’s a successful film director and I’m very happy for him!

At age 22 I dated an actor/comedian that I’d met through mutual friends. We always had a great time with one another, and he treated me very well. We did fun things together, and of course he kept me in stitches of laughter at all times. I really adored him—and for the first time in my young life it mattered not that he wasn’t the tall & studly type that I preferred. In fact, he was more short and stout. Yeah, like as in “a teapot.” Anyhow, after about nine months, he’d gotten caught in a few lies, and decided that it was too much work to keep me around. He traveled to Aspen for a show, and conveniently called it quits on me the day before Valentine’s via telephone. He’s not an “ex” that I keep in touch with, but sometimes in a fit of “Mean Girl-ness” I allow myself an evil snicker when hearing that he’s still crawling around on the “D-List.” God certainly doesn’t like ugly, and I sincerely believe that he is an illustration of such.

This year, I will likely be sans-Valentine again, though I’m not bothered by it. Sure, there’s a really girly spot in my heart that secretly hopes pink roses will arrive at my doorstep, but the realist who controls my thoughts the majority of the time would rather be pleasantly surprised than sorely disappointed. Perhaps this year I’ll take it back to the old school and be Daddy’s Valentine—since he set the standard by which all future Valentines would be measured. Or maybe I’ll gather a gaggle of my single girlfriends for a martini night in celebration of ourselves. What’s certain is that I will spend Valentine’s Day with at least one person that I really love: My single and fierce self…!