Valentines. . .the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.As a kid, I always dreaded Valentine’s Day. It was just so much pressure. Know what I mean? You spend hours, if not days, decorating your little Valentine mailbox, only to sit in stressful angst while it seemed everyone in the room had their boxes full to over-flowing with little paper valentines. How many did you get? Dare you check? What if there were none? The stress—it was enough to give a child ulcers. Thankfully, my mailbox was never empty, but that didn’t stop me from worrying. Who needs that kind of stress?
And am I the only one who thought the little hearts with sappy sayings on them tasted like Pepto-Bismol? Even at that tender age, I knew I preferred chocolate.Then, adding to the stress, puberty arrived. It added a whole new mix of stress to my life. I knew I’d just die if I didn’t have a boyfriend, then it was what if I didn’t have a date? Wasn’t that something like one of the seven mortal sins for a teenager, to be dateless on Valentine’s Day?
In college, I realized there was yet more stress to pile onto St. Valentine. One year my roommate received seven—count ‘em, seven!—freaking flower arrangements. I had a steady boyfriend. What did I get? A phone call to tell me he’d decided he wanted to date someone else. Sigh. Many years later, I can admit what I did (although I am not proud of it): I poured salt into every one of those stupid flower arrangements while my roommate was out with beau #8. Not that it did any good. Apparently, cut flowers like salt water. Who knew?
I also hate to admit it, but the next time I went home for the weekend, I tried to kick in the side of my now-ex-boyfriend’s car. BTW, car side panels are a lot stronger than they look. I broke my ankle. I guess it was justifiable punishment, even though I failed to even scratch the shiny finish.My friend’s husband always took her to a nice restaurant for an elaborate Valentine’s Day romantic dinner. I was secretly jealous until he took her to the last one. That would be the one where he told her he was a woman trapped in a man’s body and was leaving her to get a sex change operation. She wins for the ugliest Valentine’s “present”. Now that I think about it, it was also pretty bad.
But not all Valentine’s are bad. When I was pregnant with twins, my husband not only brought me my favorite chocolates and perfume we really couldn’t afford, he capped it off by polishing my toenails! Of course, I couldn’t see them very well, but I appreciated it.
This year, I’m spending Valentine’s Day doing one of the things I love most—writing. My February 2011 release, ISLAND NIGHTS, is due this month. I’m having so much fun writing it, I don’t even mind working on Valentine’s Day! To add to my pleasure, my February 2010 book, BETWEEN THE SHEETS (a trio of very fractured fairy tales) came out a week or so ago. Yes, despite some seriously sucky Valentine’s Days, I’ve finally come to enjoy them. Now, if I could only find a way to keep the chocolate from going directly to my thighs! So, how about you? How do you view Valentine’s Day? Any stories you’d like to share? Leave a comment for a chance to win one of my books.
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