I’ve always thought Valentine’s Day was sort of stupid. Guys obviously hate it, so any “romantic” gifts or events you force them into are just going to make them miserable, and what is romantic about that? Plus, any girl who gets her hopes up about this holiday seems destined to have those hopes dashed. If, on the other hand, you roll merrily along telling yourself firmly that this is a manipulative Hallmark holiday and you don’t care at all what happens, then you will be pleasantly surprised if anything comes your way.
I don’t know why, but this year I’ve thrown that entire philosophy out the window.
Gene and I have been together for five and a half years this time around. A lot of the traditionally romantic stuff has naturally been phased out of our relationship in favor of more practical things. He doesn’t leave flowers on my doorstep like he did in high school, but on the other hand he did pay my rent for a year and a half. I don’t buy a lot of sexy lingerie, but I do all the dishes and grocery shopping.
This year, for the first time, I realized you need Valentine’s Day because at least once a year you should be able to say that maybe dish washing is not the most romantic thing you could be doing for your partner. And also I think after five years you stop caring whether your partner hates the things you want to do.
So what is the most romantic thing we can do? Probably a mid-week trip to Disneyland. Just me and him and the plastic sunshiny overwhelming aesthetic of the greatest theme park on earth. Because all I really want is a whole day alone with my fella, and the only way for us to enjoy spending an entire day in one another’s company is to ensure there’s lots of other stuff for us to focus on.
I don’t think the Disneyland idea is going to fly this year. But I”m hoping that with careful campaigning, I might have a solid foundation for some serious demands by this time next year.
Valentine friends at Disneyland. Just like Gene and I could be, if we were frozen in carbonite and one of us was a mouse.