Valentine’s Day…

Roses, movies, dinner, making love…

I can’t tell you how many Valentine’s Day evenings I’ve spent alone and the last time I was with that special someone? I would say a decade ago.  It’s difficult these days, people live in different cities; it’s mid-week…etc., etc.

Does it matter anymore? I don’t know. Is this actually a special day or one induced by marketing? I’m on the fence. In the past I’ve gone to great lengths for my man on this day. Did it pay off? I don’t think so.  Oh, I’m sure they appreciated it at the time to some degree but at the end of the day I doubt they cared much. These days I’m just not sure what to do.

What is the etiquette when you’re middle aged? I haven’t got a clue.

All I know is that it’s a Thursday, I’m alone sitting here typing and the only male around is napping on the bed. I love him dearly…even if he wakes me up at God-forsaken hours. He even has his own declaration of this human event.

Can you spot his heart? It’s the first thing I noticed about him when I picked him out, chose him…all those years ago while volunteering at the MEOW Foundation in Calgary, AB.

He is and always will be my funny little Valentine…


I’m Really Not Having a Good Day…

Brace yourself, I’m an a whiny/venting mood.

The evening started and ended well until about 3 am. Then it just went downhill from there. I watched Inception (for about the 5th time) on my teeny little 25” monitor (still waiting to purchase a new flat screen)…then much to my pleasant surprise, a boy I rather like (alright, he’s a man) leaves me a cute and flirty email (thank you for that, T). So off I went to bed feeling all warm and fuzzy.

Then I wake up (3 am), and when I wake up the cat thinks it’s his job to keep me awake thus proceeding to become a major pain in the ass. Just before my alarm goes off (many hours, later) I’m throwing various items at him in my sleepy stupor and promising that terrible things will soon bestow him (as if he understands or cares…) so he’ll stop pawing at the ^%!*%!!# blinds. I miss, completely, of course and this does not deter him.

Fine. My new boss floats in later in the morning, also not having much luck in the sleep department, and I think it would be very nice of me to buy her a coffee…or a latte… As it turns out, she wants milk for the office, as well. This turns out to be my downfall as I only have two hands and to carry two coffees, a nibbly for myself AND the milk, I need at least three, possibly more.

You’re guessing what happened, aren’t you? Indeed, latte all over me and half of the elevator.  Uh huh… yup.  And because I’m such a good little citizen, I even went back, waited for about 3 to come and go and cleaned up – latte-covered elevator.

I now stink like a somewhat off, latte mixed with undertones of Marc Jacobs, Daisy. I’m also extremely thankful that I wore black, although I look splotchy. I want to go home and soak in the tub.