The world ROCKS.
I have an awesome job and listen to really awesome alternative music. I have the best friend a girl could hope for to keep me sane at the awesome job and laugh with me away from said job. She's single. I'm still with Brian, but we aren't living on love anymore. We're living. Together. Somehow.
Valentine's Day comes along and rears its ugly heart. But I decide to make the best of it. My totally groovy friend that says, "Right on!" a lot, has no plans, so I ask her and her daughter to come along with me and Brian to this new Italian restaurant. She agrees and I decide that today, I will turn around my relationship and build a friendship stronger at the same time. Who needs alone time? (yeah..wtf?)
We get to the restaurant in time to stand at the back of a forty five minute wait. We decide it's okay and have a few drinks at the bar. My friend ended up finding a sitter. So far, my plan is working out great. Brian has decided not to be a silent asshole since I have a friend with us and I remember how charming he is and how much I adore him. Maybe we can live on love.
After much ado, we finally sit at our table and order a pizza, to make it quick and easy. Thirty minutes later we are beginning to wonder if they have to wait for tomatoes to ripen or something. (Remember, we were drinking) My friend asks if we notice a strange smell. I tear my gaze away from Brian and look around the restaurant where other patrons are looking around uneasily as well.
The swinging door to the kitchen of the restaurant swings open, but no cute Italian boy comes to serve us. Flames shoot out the door. Brian grabs my friend and yells at me to run. Okay, I'm not even thinking of the flames that are nearing the area where we were sitting. I'm thinking, "That F*#$&% just grabbed her hand...and yelled at me." I turn and they're nowhere to be found, so I went ahead and tried to run through a crowd of nervous, panicked people to get outside. It was really hot from the flames, and I was really hot in general.
I finally get out, barely escaping CO2 poisoning, and there's my boyfriend. Standing at his car with a scowl. "Where the hell were you?"
"IF you grabbed my hand, you'd know."
"Oh for crying out loud."
"Whatever."
It was a wonderful Valentine's Day and I couldn't wait until next year.
Not.
Honestly, there is one more Valentine's Day tragedy, but it's not quite as humorous, so I'll leave that out. Suffice to say, this is why I do not celebrate Valentine's Day. I rarely type it all out as a word. I figure Cupid's got it out for me. And since I stopped celebrating VDay, I've been living on love for the past nine years. :0)
And just for fun, here are a few of my favorite Valentine's histories. Other good reasons, well...not to celebrate it the same way as usual..... :0)
Who the heck is this Saint Valentine? He's Father Valentine and he married couples in secret when the ruler, Claudius, had banned it. He was murdered for his crimes on February 14th. (And I thought a fire was bad)
Of course there's the infamous St. Valentine's Day Massacre of 1929. I don't know about you, but this bloodbath screams the reason for the color red on VDay. I suggest using something Pink or Blue...these are uh. alive colors. :0)
*I do not really think that it's entirely bad luck to celebrate VDay for everyone. If you are a lover of love and VDay, please do not take offense. This is my humorous attempt at making quite a doozy of a holiday more bearable for me. :0)*
