Bonaparte made dinner reservations at our favorite local restaurant for this coming Saturday evening. February 13th, the day before St. Valentine’s Day. The restaurant is “Spring Mill Café” and we love our dinners there.
The staff knows us, the food is always consistently great, and we always reserve the same table in a little alcove of the restaurant so that we are separated from other diners.
Spring Mill Cafe. It really IS our favorite restaurant. It’s like being in someone’s French kitchen!
And in this little spot, we study the dinner menu. The menu changes seasonally, but we know what to expect. We always order the Charcuterie Board as a starter and from there we ponder and make our selections and we are always happy and satisfied with our meal.
Since this weekend is Valentines weekend, Bonaparte had the smarts to ask me to call the restaurant and inquire if there would be a “special” menu for Valentine’s Day. There is and so I changed our reservation for the following Saturday evening.
While I realize that V-Day is a good business day for restaurants, I wish the regular menu offerings were available too. No big deal–we will just celebrate a week later!
And this is one of the reasons I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I don’t want to be told what I have to eat because it is a “special” day.
Yes. I am well-aware of this special day and as soon as it’s over the St. Patrick’s decorations will be shoved in my face!
Valentine’s Day is the day set aside for love and lovers. Let me tell you something about the word “lover”
I have never, and I mean never referred to any ex-boyfriend, ex-husband, or Bonaparte as my “lover”. And if any ex-boyfriend, or my ex-husband, or Bonaparte ever used “lover” to describe my part in the relationship, it would be a deal breaker. I would walk away. I cannot stomach that word. Eww. It is so fuc (I almost forgot. I am giving up cursing for Lent. It’s the least I could do since Bonaparte gets upset with my filthy gutter-mouth. Besides, not cursing is a special Valentine’s Day gift for him!), it is so darn pretentious and annoying!
If you’ve ever seen this skit on SNL with Rachel Dratch and Will Ferrell, you’ll know what I”m talking ’bout!
Valentine’s Day is so forced and contrived. I mean, seriously. I have visions of greasy abusive men stopping off at the last minute at a gas station to buy their better half a cheap stuffed teddy bear and candy in a heart-shaped box. And when they come home they just kind of toss the gifts to their woman. I can see it now:
Greasy Guy (tossing teddy bear and candy to his woman): “Hey. Happy Valentine’s Day” “What’s for dinner?”
Greasy Guy’s girlfriend: “Aww. Honey. I “wuv” youuuu..” “I made your favorite Hamburger Helper for dinner”
Greasy Guy: “Hamburger Helper!” “Man, I shoulda got you flowers too!” “I “wuv” you too”!
…this is the kind of Valentine’s you give to your children. If any grown man gave me something like this and told me he “wuved” me he’d be next to the one who referred to me as his “lover”.
Valentine’s Day pushes the limit of tasteful attire.
I created this outfit on Polyvore. I would wear the Hermes scarf and the trench coat. I would wear the matching undies only…..
Let’s just say I would wear a get-up like the one above to my dermatologist’s office. He would be so grossed out by my ripples and wrinkles sticking out of both bra and panty that he would have to focus extra-hard on my skin check.
In a plane. Yes. I always wear matching underwear on flights. Just in case the worst happens and my body gets torn in half. The rescue workers can match the top with the bottom—and a bright, sexy ensemble of unmentionables would have me matched up in no time!
I would rather wear Wonderwoman panties because I would rather be empowered than sexy!
Valentine’s Day is an excuse to eat bad candy. I know that chocolate is one of the greatest gastronomical delights known to woman. I have received chocolates in heart shaped boxes. Most of the chocolates were thrown in the trash. Why? Because I’m that girl/lady/woman/old hag who bites into a chocolate and if the filling is fruity fake nougat or the inside is oozing with a flavor I can’t quite describe, I bite and spit. I am a chocolate purist. Chocolate with nuts or toffee—yes. Filled chocolate-no.
Forest Gump was wrong. Life is NOT like a box of chocolates . If it were, we would be spitting things out of our mouths all day.
Valentine’s Day is also another way that card companies sidle into your private life with any excuse for a card. Even at the expense of reminding someone that they are alone on this day of blissful romance and love. Hey. Let’s make all single people and those who’ve suffered a break up all feel badly on this day.
I swear to God, I almost shit a brick fell over when I saw THIS in the Valentine’s Day card section. WTF??? To make matters worse, there was a wide selection!
Don’t get me wrong. It isn’t that I don’t love. My kids, Bonaparte and Chippy are the center of my world.
It’s just that I’m not one of those “Hello Kitty”, “Disney Princess”, cutesy romantics. Although I will admit that I oftentimes comment on Facebook with little heart emoji’s if I like something a lot. And I always sign of with “XOXOXOXO”.
Yeah Kitty, I “woof” you–you too little princess!
My love is more pragmatic.
Love is a verb.
Love hurts.
Love is a roller coaster.
Lust is Michel Polnareff begging to me to love him.
Love is an emotion. It is that feeling you get inside you that shakes you up when you see that special someone doing something nice for you.
Bonaparte telling me to get back in the house and NOT help to shovel snow is an act of pure love!
Love is the overwhelming feeling you get when you are with your children and you realize that they are the most wonderful people in the world.
My three little babies. I love them more and more each day!
Love is wanting to help those you care about and not asking for anything in return.
Love is something that we all need at some point during our lifetimes.
Love actually is saying that you are sorry. Especially when you hurt those you do love.
Love makes the world go ’round.
Happy love to you every day. Not just on St. Valentine’s Day!
Kisses to you from me. For every day!!! XOXOXO
So yeah, when I say “Down with love” I mean it in the down-in-the-forced-and-contrived sense of love—because real love is beautiful!
Let my friend Bobby Darin explain:
