I've always been a pursuer. I kind of still have no clue what to do when somebody flirts with me because if I like you, I'll attack you. You're not going to sell me on you; I'm like the far end of the surveys where they conclude women know if they will sleep with you in the first 7 seconds. If it takes you 14 seconds to know, it takes me 2.
Of course, I'm married now so I'm not attacking people who aren't my husband anymore. Or any less! JK JK.
I never think of myself as a romantic person, but I do have a history of sending boys flowers to prey on them. And I'm sentimental so I have that going on. I'm also a big present-giver in general and have prided myself through the years on presenting people with items that involved so much forethought it was guaranteed to move them to the point of being uncomfortable. Baby, I was born that way. I like to aggressively love people in a symbolic material fashion.
Mike in contrast is very authentically sensitive and romantic, particularly in a musical way. He planned out all the music for our wedding including pre-game, ceremony, mingling, dinner, dancing, wind-down. They were all carefully considered choices and most were meaningful songs to us.
We spent six months picking and repicking the perfect "our song" song for our first dance. Emily's post about her gorgeous wedding dress that discusses the song she imagines to be her wedding song inspired me to write this up.
The song we ultimately danced to in a little Gowanus Basin warehouse art gallery in front of 40 people who love us was the Alfalfa from Little Rascals version of "Let Me Call You Sweetheart:"
Alfalfa's little crackin' voice could make me cry right now. And then that emotion could make me kick-box something because I'm marginally stunted in that respect.
So Valentine's Day. Our first married one came only like 6 weeks after we legalized it, so I still had giant heart-shaped cartoon eyes. The fantastic thing about Mike is that unlike some of the poor harassed flower-receivers of my past, he loves to be the center of attention. I started Googling pink gorilla singing telegrams and crap like that.
Those weren't quite doing it for me. I checked out some celebrity look-alikes that seemed kind of fun, but nah, not it either. Then came the singing Valentine service of the Spring Valley Chorus. They looked like the sweetest ladies of all time and "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" was on their list of Valentine song options. Best $50 EVER SPENT. And it included a bear and cookie. I love these ladies beyond measure.
I set it up for my beautiful singing Cupids to pop in on Mike at work. I almost blew the surprise when I had to strong-arm him into not leaving for lunch, but he listened and didn't ask questions. Luckily a co-worker of his made this video on his phone:
I think he looks like he's going to cry.
He loved it so much. I used to hate Valentine's Day. Or was indifferent. I did work at a Hallmark store as a teeenager, maybe that affected me. I don't know.
It felt really good. What's wrong with letting someone know how much you love them with a grand gesture? For once I wasn't trying to get something from someone or emotionally manipulate them. I just wanted to show my appreciation for his wife-picking chops.
So what should I do this year? Do I try to top this? Repeat it? Skip it? Advise me, honey lambs.
And how far do YOU go for love? Tell us!