Mr. Sandman
Every week-end when my husband visits he buys me a dozen roses. Different colors, fresh from the grocery store convenient roses. I believe I may have told my husband that he should not get me roses for Valentine's Day as it's not something "special". Little did I realize, now that he's gone again and no Valentine's Day gift of any kind has appeared, that no roses meant no Valentine.
My mother-in-law sent us a card and gift. I don't think it's too hard to guess my stance on the Valentine's Day thing - but then, he doesn't read the blog and he's half deaf so perhaps I'm assuming. And you know what happens when one assumes...
So, in honor of having to give myself my own Valentine:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Did I mention
Love sucks?
Tomorrow I'll be making pink rice crispy treats for the kids. I will not be saving any for him.
Gentlemen, I hope you did better by your other halves.
posted by The Warbler | 2/13/2006 01:56:00 PM
18 Comments:
Valentine's Day means
If she wants tiramisu
For dessert
Or for an appetizer
She gets tiramisu
It pleases-me-too!
Happy Valentine's from the blogosphere,
Sam
oh sh#@! Gotta go!
Warbler, dear.
What can you expect from a holiday whose roots are deeply mired in ambivalence?
St. Valentine was one of the early martyrs of the Christian faith, who for one reason or the other was condemned to death by a Roman Emperor. Valentine was clubbed, stoned, and when that didn't kill him he was finally beheaded.
Maybe he's a symbol of the tenacity of love or maybe love's suffering?
Whatever the case, he is the patron saint of happy marriages, engaged couples, the plague, fainting, and bee-keeping.
Ah! Doesn't love make martyrs of us all?
Living and dying for love,
M.
martha,
Are you telling me I shouldn't expect my husband of six years to get with the frickin' program because some hard to kill saint had a martyr complex? Or are you just pointing out that men are as clueless now as they were then?
Why couldn't this have all ended with the condemnation of death? Other than the reduced price chocolate available in the next week, the holiday has no redeeming social value.
Oh, my bitterness imbued Several Times Scorned (not by me, I hope), let me dig out my Sociology 101 book so I can find an answer that will appease your hope-drained li'l heart. In the meantime, I leave you with this: not everything in life or society needs to have redeeming social value. Someyimes things are fun for no other reason than they just are.
hear, hear!
Fourth of July is fun
Christmas is fun
Blogging is fun
Valentine's Day is NOT fun
(By the way - I'm all about fun)
I went through a whole phase where I saw everything as a cartoon...
Warbler, dear.
UMMMMMMM.
You setup a rather frustrated posting here, commenting on- and I quote: "Love Stinks".
So my response was not attempting to offer any counsel about your own husband, or men in general. I was just commenting on the ambivalence of a day like today and its ancient roots.
Re:Men
Last night the local CVS store was packed- three deep in the row- with men scouting out a valentine's day card for a loved one. Really scouting, not just grabbing the first card at hand.
So, I'm not picking on guys.
Re: Several Times Scorned
STS seems to pick up on the double-edged nature of the day. Sure fun for some, for others an exacerbation of love's troubles.
Our current Valentine's day celebration of love, while plastered with a Saint's name, evolved from some ancient Roman festival where men would draw women's names out from some container, probably an old Gladiator's helmet.
The lucky women had the privilege of serving as a consort for the year!
So.....it all sounds pretty ambivalent to me.
Living for ?????
M
Our dear friend Nancy was a "consort" in Paris and they give her special bennies like cheap train rides and cheap food if you have a consort ID, which I never knew one could get.
She said it was the best two years of her life! Treated like a princess everywhere. Loads of anonymous Valentines every year, dear, some quite amusing.
Sammy!
Modern Paris-Ancient Rome ----hey, whatever a girl calls home.
We gave em the exact same bennies back in our day. cheap train rides and really good cheap food and vino----plus they got us!
(Sure we had the occassional problem with a volcano eruption or two, but hey what's to complain about?)
Maximus Pontificatus
Hey no shooting arrows at my hiney - I really got one there one time. Darned nurses taking pictures of it and all and giggling. Imagine!
Oh my, what hath love wrought? Martha, perhaps I mis-spoke. I said "Love Stinks" when I probably meant "Marriage Stinks", but there were no songs with those lyrics. And let me see if I get this straight, I could serve as a gladiator's consort for a year and then go my happy, well-satiated little way? And the problem with this is....?
STS, I will never, ever force you to appreciate or celebrate Valentine's Day. It can also be fun to be anti-Valentine's Day if you have the right spirit. I'm all for individual rights, etc. But please don't rain on my parade. Even though my life has taken on proportions the likes of which would make Anna Karenina shudder, I still am filled with the spirit of hopeful romance. I can't help it. I love romance. I love silly little holidays, all of 'em. And not because Hallmark told me to (Hallmark - Kansas City, I'm a little bit loyal there). I'm not catholic, I don't celebrate Saints days. I started handing out Valentines in first grade and I never stopped. I have had my heart broken time and again and waited in vain for the delivery man to show up on my doorstep every Feb. 14 and - for the most part- I'm still waiting. I like Valentine's Day the most because I like to think, in my own warped little mind, that because it's Valentine's Day somewhere, out there (maybe even beneath the pale moonlight) someone is reminded about something that makes them think of me. That makes some wonderful person say "What a woman!" I like to think that because of the connotations of this one day a year, there's somebody who says to themselves, "If I were her husband, she wouldn't be sitting home alone every night and crying home alone every day. She wouldn't be spending Valentine's Day sewing patches on her jeans and stressing out because she can't make the hot water last for two baths and a sinkful of dishes, she'd be shaving her legs and going dancing - even if it's just line dancing because I have two left feet and am better at watching." I like to think that because of Valentine's Day, one person takes liberty to have a romantic thought about me - that there's someone who thinks I'm beautiful, kind and generous (and actually thinks that's a good thing, too); who thinks that I'm a prize worth having and a treasure worth keeping; who would adore me and cherish me and support my dreams while chasing their own. Because of Valentine's Day, I get to have one unabashedly romantic day whether someone shares it with me or not...
Well...s*&%, I need to go find that Shiraz now...
no dancing!
Warbler, dear.
If only you were guaranteed to get some hunky Russell Crowe gladiator type! Rome had its share of foppish, wine soaked boors that would certainly drive any hopefully romantic girl to drink. (And I don't think they had any decent shiraz at all during those days! Alas, Australia had not yet been discovered!)
May your dreams all come true.
Living for the shiraz
M.
Living for the Russell Crowe's
--W
Looking at my crow's feet...
Cheryl,dear.
Sorry about that whole 'Lance' deal.
I guess you'll find plenty of 'my man jus' done me wrong' material during these days. (As if that can be of any consolation.)
Living for the blues.
M
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