Oh, Lord. I wrote these two informative posts for Valentine’s two years ago. (I lost the comments on them in the move to the second Worship Naked site. Which is too bad. There were some good ones.)
Anyway … these posts prove something definitively:
I — am an ASS.
So, first, let’s observe a moment of silence in honor of my assiness ……..
And now, let’s repost ’em!
(By the way: I am NOT Dr. Phil. Please do whatever you want — or don’t want — to do for Valentine’s Day.)
Okay. Commence assiness:
“Valentine’s Boot Camp, Part 1”
Years ago, my fiance, Snake, and I had a wee row on Valentine’s Day. I had gotten him The Perfect Gift and he’d gotten me bupkis. Na-da. Unless you count that crisp, bitter chill in the air between us. He sat there with The Perfect Gift cradled in his lap and explained:
“I didn’t get you anything,” he sniffed, “because I knew you were expecting it.” Hmm …. Jack Frost nipping at my nose …. Now, a strange, convoluted, ah, discussion ensued.
“Well, what did I do or say that made you think I expected it?” I was bewildered.
“Nothing,” said Snake. “I just knew you did. You shouldn’t expect it, you know. And since you expected it, I didn’t do it.” I watched as he fiddled with The Perfect Gift in his lap.
I won’t relay more of what was said, because it basically went roundy-round on those two comments. Ain’t love grand.
Thankfully, I shed Mr. Snake from my life before ever slithering down the aisle to become Mrs. Snake.
So yes, that “day” is comin’. That !#&?! day dedicated to delight, delirium …. and dashed hopes.
Yep.
Birds-Trees-Hearts-and-Flowers Day.
Drunk-Dial-Your-Ex Day.
Lame ‘n’ Crappy Ol’ Valentine’s Day.
Please remain calm!
I know it’s a dratted manufactured holiday, fellas. Maybe we “shouldn’t expect it,” but, well, we’re history’s worst monsters and we do. Try looking at it this way: You have the chance to “outlove” ALL OTHER MEN. You could be the talk of all your wife’s friends, sending those green-eyed hens home to their roosters, clucking, “Why can’t you be more like Walter?!” You could be, if only for one day, The World’s Greatest Lover.
Trust me. Your woman will likely brag about you if you sweep ‘er off her dainty little feet. Why? Because women like to make other women feel bad. “If I’m the Queen, that means you’re not.” Well, maybe that’s a tad harsh. (But have you met any women?)
So, roosters, In the spirit of that !#&?! day, I’m serving up some ideas to get you to that lofty, long-for position of World’s … Greatest … Lover … Some of these are mine, some aren’t. I’ll do a few in this post — more in another. Here we go:
1. Understand the difference between a present and a gift:
A present is something you give because you want your beloved to have it.
A gift is something you give because you’re sure your beloved wants it.
Roosters — That Dustbuster is a present. That lacy little somethin’-somethin’ might be, too. Think about that.
Hens — Underwear, ties, and socks — unless handmade by you or your precious, wide-eyed 4-year-old — are presents.
“And extreme lustbusters,” MB is chiming in.
“Thanks, babe,” is what I lovingly say to him but what I’m thinking is “Hey — get your own !?@!#! blog!”
2. All right. Let’s get this over with. Flowers — eh. They’re okay, but every other WGL contender is doing it, so big whoop. That doesn’t set you apart as the BEST. Don’t do roses — unless they’re absolutelytutely her favorite. Meaning she’ll drop everything because she’s gone weak in the knees and passionately kiss you for …. hmm … say, at least 30 seconds. Then they’re probably her favorite.
3. Chocolate — if she LOVES it. See reaction above. But get the best you can afford. Not a Whitman’s Sampler that you bought in the drugstore from a slow-moving, loquacious cashier named Agnes on the way home from work …. on Valentine’s Day.
4. Okay. Old standbys out of the way. I’m gonna say something that’s true for me — and for my girlfriends (hey, we talk about this): We’d rather you take some time, be creative, than spend a lot of money. Sometimes the simplest things can make the most impact. A few years ago, My Beloved wrote me a list of reasons why he loved me. It was touching and funny and melted me. I took time, creativity. And I loved it. I remember there were a lot more reasons than I could have thought of — and more than I think I deserve. I still have that list. I still look at that list.
5. Last entry for this post — and necessary precursor to what’s coming in the next:
Roosters and Hens — Lovely presentation is part of the gift. It shows you took just a little extra time. It shows “the love.” If you are not “gifted” at this, please — oh, please — have someone do it for you. If you’re not sure whether you’re gifted at this, you can send me a picture of something you’ve wrapped — 😉 I’ll tell you straight. (Hey, in college I worked retail, wrapping gifts and preparing gift baskets for a very shi-shi-poo-poo store. So I got pretty darn good at — well, at shi-shi-poo-poo wrapping.) At least keep some handy-dandy gift bags on hand, get some excelsior (straw-like stuff from arts stores) or tissue — and nice it up! Come on. I know you can do it. (Or contact me and I’ll do it for you — I really would. Because I love to do that.) Yeah, I know …. I’m weird.
Okay, henhouse dismissed … for now …
(*Note from Present-Day Me: Oh, and since I apparently thought you still needed help, here’s MORE! Because I’m so LOVING! And GIVING! And NON-CONDESCENDING! Just like JESUS! ….. Ohh, no. I AM Dr. Phil. It’s true. I’m Dr. Phil. I mean, he’s an ass, right? And can’t you just hear all this rooster/henhouse crap in that Texas drawl of his?? Lord. I looooaathe myself right now. Still … let us proceed with more assiness! It must be purged:)
“Valentine’s Day Boot Camp, Part 2”
Okay. Part 2. As I said to all you roosters, it is a dratted manufactured holiday. We clucky little hens know that. But let me also say that I don’t think it’s manufactured just for our exclusive, prima donna, henny benefit. If you’re a hen who lounges around the hen house on Valentine’s Day waiting for the rooster to rock your world while you do nothing, you are a bad hen! Bad. Hen. (Well, those are a couple words I never thought I’d write together.)
Anyway, look. Maybe it’s just a matter of perspective. There’s obligatory romance and optional romance. Obligatory includes the birthdays, the anniversaries, perhaps the Christmas season, and, yes, V-Day. Optional includes, well, all other days. And, yes, optional romance is more romantic. But what’s wrong with looking at the obligatory days as an opportunity for roosters and hens to enhance the love level, to turn up the heat in the hen house?
Perhaps men fear our expectations: “Ahhhh! She wants a big, chubby diamond. She wants a screamingly expensive gift. She wants the la-di-da dinner with all those confusing, prissy forks!” No, no, and no! (Diamonds don’t make me all dewy. Expensive gifts scare me a bit. And prissy forks make me cry.) Not every woman expects — or even wants — the extravagant gesture. Many of us are happiest, most charmed, most swept off our feet by gestures that take some time, some thought, some creativity. And yes, ideally, we should be engaged in “the loooove” all year ’round, but when life interferes or we’ve gotten a little lazy, these days are a good chance to play a little lovey-dovey catch up. Do that little extra credit. Get that glow that lingers after a lovely — and even little — gesture.
All right. Shaddup, already, and give the !@$?! ideas, Trace. Here we go:
1. Write that list I referred to in part 1 — the reasons why you love her. Although, don’t do it if you can only think of three. Do put in some of her physical attributes that are your, uh, favorites. (But — perhaps — don’t make that the whole list.) And, hens, you can do this, too.
2. Buy a box of those kid Valentines. Write a little something on each one. Be romantic. Be racy. Whatever. Tape ’em to the walls. Put some in the mailbox. Hide them in your sock drawer. Fill his briefcase. You get the idea. S-p-r-e-a-d the love.
3. Send him/her a card each day for the week of Valentine’s. Better yet, make a card. MB has a gift with drawing. He can draw the funniest cartoons, so I have a few cards like that. Love ’em.
4. So if you have artistic gifts, use them. Draw, paint, write, etc., something that expresses “the love.” Maybe on the bathroom mirror.
5. Valentine’s Day is on Monday, so to help your beloved be more relaxed for the week ahead make Sunday night “Spa Night.” Break out the scented oils, massage lotions, fluffy towels, cucumber slices, etc. Use your computer — or hand make — a brochure creatively describing the services offered by your “spa.” (Choose whatever MPAA rating you’d like. )
6. Roosters — rent her favorite romantic movie, pop the popcorn, get out the cozy blanket for two. If the movie’s “Gone with the Wind, ” tell her she has to kiss you every time one character says another character’s name — say, oh, “Rhett,” for instance. She sees her favorite romance, but you get a little bit, too.
7. Make him his favorite meal. Or make her her favorite meal. Oh, and set it up picnic style on the floor …. or the bed. Candles, candles. (But as Smokey the Bear says, above all, “Be firesafe.”)
8. Brush her hair. Be gentle. It’s simple. It’s romantic.
9. Music, music, music …. ah, sweet music ….
10. Go to your favorite takeout place. Order aforementioned takeout. Smuggle takeout into the movies in a shopping bag. Don’t know why I love this one, but I do.
11. Slow dance in a restaurant — one that doesn’t have a dance floor. I guarantee people will applaud you.
12. Give yourself $5 each to spend at your favorite convenience store. See what kind of unusual stuff you can buy to have yourself a li’l diverting evening. Maybe some paints, paper, frozen cookie dough, temporary tattoos, nail polish …. trust me, that’s an interesting evening.
13. Go to your beloved’s car at work. Attach some balloons to the side mirror, windshield, etc. Before tying up one of the balloons, enclose a little love note — or a destination where to meet you and when. Leave a card with a co-worker complicit in this plan. Card should contain pin and instructions to pop balloons until note is found. Make complicit co-worker take pictures.
14. Roosters — Pajamagram.com. Order by tomorrow. Guaranteed V-Day delivery. Nice.
15. Revive the art of the love letter. If that’s not you, here are some thoughts to borrow:
“My dear Girl, I love you ever and ever and without reserve. The more I have known you, the more have I lov’d …. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest ….”
John Keats — but you can write something like that. I do believe you can.
16. Go to your favorite bookstore. Buy each other two books: One you know they’ll like; one you’d like them to read. (A gift and a present, plus reading. Yippee!)
17. Moonlight stroll. Hold hands. (In the rain. With no umbrella.) What, doesn’t everyone do it that way?
18. Have a Betty Crocker evening. Pick out the most decadent sounding dessert from your cookbooks. Shop for the ingredients and make it together from scratch. Don’t worry about gettin’ messy. In fact, the messier the better. You can always clean each other up later. 😉
19. And hens — Well, there’s always this and it usually gets a laugh. It’s something I invented called “The Boomerang Card”: Buy yourself a beautiful blank card. Write a love letter to yourself, rhapsodizing shamelessly about the wonders of yoouuuu. Don’t hold back. Embellish effusively. At the bottom of the card, draw an X and a line. Under the line write: “If you agree, sign your assent on the line above.” MB always laughs at these, keeps them, and gives them to me later.
20. Roosters — We hens are verbal, verrrrry verbal. So try this:
Look — really look — into her eyes, take her hand, and tell her something along this theme: “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You take my breath away and make my knees go weak and I’m so in love with you.” Etc., etc. Improvise freely, but mean it — and keep looking at her.
That oughtta shut ‘er up.
All righty! Just a few, not-so-expensive ideas from me to you.
And now, all you roosters and hens, Carpe That Confounding, Obligatory Diem!
(*Note from Present-Day Me: No, actually. There’s nothing to say. Nuh-thing. Only action will suffice. So I’m announcing a brief absence from this blog whilst I travel back in time to 2005 to kill the Rooster-Obsessed Romance Expert Tracey. But I’m pretty sure 2007 Tracey will remain unscathed — mostly because I’ve learned from movies and television that time travel into the past almost never has any negative repercussions in the present. I will also be hunting down that twangy, supercilious gingerbread man, Dr. Phil. And I will push him — REALLY HARD — in the gut and knock the wind outta him and stuff. Then I will stand there and demand to his belly button, “How’s that workin’ fer ya, Dr. Phil? Huh? HUH?” So, it’s toodles for now. I’ve got things to do.)
Assiness OUT.
