Valentine’s Day Post Mortem
So? How was it? Did you boycott? Did you save your money so you can go buy candy today for half off?
Or did you break down, write him a twelve page love letter, slip it through the vent on his locker door, then spend the whole day worrying about how to get it back, only to find it in the trash by the Boy's Room later (no, this never happened to me. Really. Well, OK, it did. Shut up)?
Here is what I did for Valentine's Day:
Laid in bed all day and revised Size 12 Is Not Fat.
Several times, my husband looked in on me. At no time was he carrying roses or a Whitman Sampler, even though they make sugar free ones now, so it would have fit in with my sugar free diet.
That is because my husband hates Valentine's Day more than anyone. He says the greeting card industry isn't going to tell him when to say I Love You to his wife. I explained to him about St. Valentine, but he just looked bored, mostly because there was a college basketball game on.
Many readers have asked me why, in the Princess Diaries books, I always skip Valentine's Day. I would think you would all know the answer to that by now, but just in case you haven't figured it out, here is why: Michael is mostly modeled after my husband. And my husband doesn't believe in Valentine's Day. Therefore, Michael doesn't believe in Valentine's Day. So there is NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT except Mia's extreme duress over Michael not believing in Valentine's Day.
But even Mia knows that Valentine's Day has been completely blown out of proportion. It—unlike Prom—doesn't matter. So I would rather reserve her angst for something that actually matters. Like Prom.
Anyway, here is the most romantic moment of my Valentine's Day:
Did you even take a shower today?
No. I told you. I am protesting the gross commercialism of Valentine's Day.
You can do that and still bathe, you know. I am protesting too, but I bathed.
I am not changing out of my pajamas all day, or leaving this bed, in order to show my great antipathy for being told when to say I love you to my spouse.
Okay. But you're starting to smell a little gamey.
One of the things I heard on TV (from Nancy Giles, on CBS Sunday Morning) is that the Webster's definition of Valentine's Day says it is a day to remind friends and family that you care for them. Not boyfriends or crushes. FRIENDS AND FAMILY.
That is actually pretty cool (although I do think we should let our friends and family know that we love them EVERY day, not just Valentine's Day).
So I have to agree with all the readers who wrote in to say they will be sending Valentine's to their grandmas and friends. I also agree with them about how great it was in elementary school, when we gave EVERY kid in our class a Valentine. Of course, there was always that frantic search for the right Valentine for the guy who liked you but you didn't like back—nothing mushy, definitely something jokey, preferably with an elephant on it.
Or the one for the guy who you DID like, but you didn't want him to know.
None of that has changed, as I observed when I happened to encounter Captain Bob's kids the night before Valentine's Day (don't worry, I was clean at that point), when they were busy signing their “I Choo-Choo-Choo-Choose You” and “Bee Mine” Valentine's for the rest of the kids in their class. Our conversation went like this:
So. Are those Valentine's for someone special, or for everyone in your class?
Everyone in the class.
Which one did you pick out for SHAWNA?????
I said SHUT UP.
Who is Shawna?
Oh, just the girl he LOVESSSSSSSSSSSS.
I do not. Shut up.
She stuck a bean up her nose once.
And it came out her mouth. That's why he LOVESSS her.
SHUT UP or I will ram this Valentine down your #(%*)&% throat!!!!
You said a bad word. I'm telling. MOM!!!!
Well, I will just be going now.
You see how much better things were when you were ten? So much simpler, so much sweeter. Except, of course, for the bean, after it made its way back into your mouth from your nostril.
Anyway, later on on Valentine's Day, I got out of bed and ate dinner, then watched EXTREME HOME MAKEOVER (hi Shelby!) and went back to bed to revise some more. Only I got distracted by DIRTY WAR on HBO, the story of a dirty bomb let loose in London, so I had to watch that, and basically learned that if someone sets off a dirty bomb, we are all going to die.
So I felt that was an appropriate way to spend the last few hours of Valentine's Day:
unwashed, undressed, and convinced we're all going to die.
I hope you had a good one, too.
PS Here is a picture of me in the pants I would have worn on Valentine's Day if I wasn't boycotting it, so instead I wore them on a regular day: