It’s the day before Valentines, and I’m going insane. Suddenly I want to paint the world in pink — I’m not even a big fan of the color under normal circumstances — and draw hearts everywhere.

 

     Love songs keep floating through my head like there’s no tomorrow and I feel crazy happy inside. Why? I don’t know! I’ve got no plans, I’m not even spending it with anybody special … but I do love Valentines day.

 

     Okay, so guys get a bad rap if they don’t do the roses, the cards, the chocolate and the whole shebang. But they also complain about it being a whole Chick Holiday. I agree with them to a point. The main thing is making your woman happy, buying her all of the above or feeling like a dirty, rotten and downright lousy guy.

 

      Oh so unjust for the guys to be put through the wringer like that! It’s no wonder some guys get a bit out of sorts when Valentines week rolls around. Fellas, you’ve got my sympathy. Honest you do!

 

       You want to know how I’d love to spend future Valentines Day?

 

       I want to spend the day at home with my man, make his favorite meal, snuggle on the couch and do something spontaneous and fun. I don’t want to pick just one day out of the whole year to prove how much I love him. I want him to know all year long how insanely in love I am with him!

 

       I’ll want him to know how much I love him and respect him. I want him to know that he’s the man of my dreams, my hero and the love of my life. That he’s my best friend, through the good times and the bad.

 

       I like the whole idea of giving him a Valentines card though. I’m a sap for little things like that, because he can put them in a box and read them everyday all year long if he want to. As much as I love flowers, they will eventually die and I just know I’ll want to dry one. I’ll keep that dried flower until it ends up falling apart and then I’ll cry when its gone. I’m a sad individual like that.  😦 

 

   For real though, I saw a TV commercial the other night for a pajama-gram. Okay whatever, that’s all just fine and dandy. The Candy-gram is fine too. But I’m sitting there not five minutes later and another one of those stupid Valentines commercials comes up for a … Huggy-gram.

 

   What? Who in their right mind is going to send their significant other a pair of arms that velcro together to “hug” you. Granted, the only halfways sensible thing about the whole idea was that you could actually record your own message so they could “hear your voice” when they hugged themselves with the aid of this stupid huggy-thing.

 

    Honestly, it almost reminded me of those anorexic looking stuffed monkeys you win at the county fair. I mean, they’ve got those insanely long arms and come in weird cheetah patterns and funky colors too. I bet getting one of those is like a billion times more fun … if only because you got to pile up on crazy junk food, rode rides until you got sick and had a wonderful time being together.

 

    Please tell me people don’t really consider stuff like that. They don’t, right?? I shudder at the mere possibility of such a thing.

 

       Okay, I’ve done enough random spilling/gushing over Valentines day for now. Don’t worry, by Monday my little brain will be back to its usual hum-drum, low key-ish state of mind and there will be no posts leaving you with a high probability of getting sick afterwards. 😉

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