I Choo Choo Choose You
I have strong feelings about Valentine's Day. Now, I'm pretty firmly in the anti-Valentine's Day camp... It's too high pressure for new relationships, too "you suck if you're single" and too much "show me how much you love me" through the dropping of mass amounts of cash. In fact, I overheard many of the women that I work with saying this to each other this morning:
How did you do?Now, come on people! Are you for real?? In an effort not to blog about work, I'll hold my tongue beyond that.
Okay... I digress. Despite my feelings about the holiday as a concept, this particular Valentine's Day (and the past two before it) was great. I realize that I am lucky that I have someone like The Boy who loves me for who I am, despite my many neuroses. We're a perfect fit, and I look forward to being Mrs. Boy.
Yesterday, he outdid himself. I came home to be surprised by a Vermont Teddy Bear to add to my collection, along with a bag full of media treats. I love that he didn't do the traditional flower and chocolates thing... just one more thing that makes him so special to me.
My favorite gift, however, was a certain
short story that I had been wanting to read. That's right, folks. The Boy bought me gay cowboy love for Valentine's Day, and I couldn't be happier.
