I Love ME!

It might surprise you, given my long-standing single status, that I don't hate Valentine's Day. I think a day when you get to tell the people you care about how much you care about them is important. As with most things in my life, I am able to find humor in things that others might not be able to. With that said, today's post will highlight some of my most memorable Valentine's Days. Please don't mistake any of these for me feeling sad and sorry for myself. They are all funny, and some even sweet, in their own special way.

When I was in 4th grade my mom bought me some Girbaud jean shorts. I am pretty sure I told her to buy them for me and she did so to shut me up. But here's the thing....who gets shorts in February. I did grow up in Louisiana, and even if it was indeed warm enough to wear shorts, it should never be allowed in February, unless you live in say, Cancun. But I proudly sported my new Girbaud jean shorts to school, shirt tucked in so you could see the label, and froze my chubby, not yet shaven, legs off. Maybe my mom was trying to teach me a lesson: It's not always fun to get everything you want.

Shorty after the Girbaud jean shorts year, probably the very next year, my daddy gave my sisters and me Valentine's cards. In recent years, I can count on getting at least two cards from my dad on birthdays and other holidays, sometimes 3 or 4 or 5. But not when we were younger, so this was a special surprise. I will never forget the idea of this card on this Valentine's Day. My dad had a way of reaching out to me, without ever really saying anything deep or profound. I was a very unhappy and miserable child. I was teased and made fun of for lots of different reasons. Some how my daddy knew this about me even though I never really talked about it. He gave me a card that year that said something about guessing what his most special and favorite and beautiful Valentine was. When you opened the card, there was little piece of foil-like plastic, and my chubby, four-eyed face stared back at me. I had never felt so special in my whole life.

I honestly do not remember any Valentine's Days from high school. I have put a mental block on most things that happened during those 4 awful years.

Fastforward to college. In 2002, the year the Winter Olympics were in Salt Lake, my parents had just bought me a brand new Honda Civic (rest in peace, Civ). Of course I didn't have a date, so my roommate Sarah and I drove north on I-15 to find a Cracker Barrel. I think we got to about Sandy before I realized we should have driven south. So, not truly valuing the cost of a gallon of gas or an extra mile on my car, we turned around and made the journey to Springville. Sarah and I got to eat a special "couple" table--the checker board table on top of a barrel right next to the huge wood burning fire place. I know you're jealous that you've never gotten to eat at the checker board.

I have a best friend who has a husband who is a very hard worker. He works so hard in fact, that he often needs a little coaching and reminding about holidays and birthdays. I am more than happy to assist. On their second Valentine's Day as a married couple, I was called to action. I was given a budget and an afternoon at University Mall in Orem. There is something that can only be described as a high that comes from spending someone else's money on things that I loved buying. Then reality hit and it hit hard when I had to hand over all the gifts I would have so loved to keep for myself. But I didn't walk away from that Valentine's Day empty-handed. The best friend gave me a little vase of pale pink fake roses. She said she was giving them to me since no boy was going to give me flowers. If you don't know me and my best friend, that could sound pretty ugly and slightly demeaning. It wasn't. I still have those flowers and I would take them any day over flowers from a boy.

The next year, I had a friend who was a boy, but certainly not a boyfriend. He went to Vegas for Valentine's Day, where he slept in his car with 3 other boys since they didn't book a hotel before they left. When he came back, however, he wanted to see me and give me my gift. I really wished he hadn't. I was handed a drug store gift bag filled with drug store chocolates, a drug store stuffed animal of some sort a Diet Coke and...get ready...plastic hand cuffs. And that's all I have to say about that.

A few years ago I had a cute friend named Mary who worked with me. Her boyfriend didn't live here, so she and I decided to spend Valentine's Day together. We ordered Papa John's, watched American Idol, and made a homemade chocolate cake in the shape of a heart. We had a blast and were looking forward to sharing our Martha Stewart decadence with our co-workers the next day. The next day came, and instead of feeling good about sharing our treat, I wanted to shove it in this one guy's neanderthal forehead. When Mary and I told him how we had spent our night he looked at me and snorted, "Man...you really need a boyfriend."

There are other funnier stories from more recent years. However, I run the risk other people who read this knowing who I'm talking about, and while I'm okay with embarrassing myself, I feel the need to protect the guilty.

Bless my heart. Again, it's a good thing I love myself (maybe too much?) enough to not let these get me down. Love me! (Get it? Like "Love you!")