V-Day 2012
My gift to him (so fitting)
His gift to me (tiny cross)
funny valentine
by si on February 14, 2012 Leave a Comment
After ten years of birthday, Christmas, anniversary and Valentine’s gifts, we’ve kinda gotten lazy in the creativity department. This is how V-Day went down last year:
Him: Any gift ideas of what you want for Valentine’s Day?
Me: Not really. You?
Him: Nope.
Me: I have an idea! Why don’t we set a $20 limit and make each other gifts?
Him: Nah. That’s too much work. I’d rather buy you something.
Me: Yeah. Me too.
Him: Oh, good.
Me: I can already tell this is going to be the most AWESOME Valentine’s Day ever!
This year isn’t faring much better. Steve’s trying, in vain, to get some last minute reservations right now as I type. At this rate, we’ll have a romantic candlelit dinner over a couple of Jumbo Jacks like we did back in ’03. True story. But that fiasco had less to do with laziness on our part and more to do with best laid plans going awry. You see, what had happened was, I surprised Steve with an impromptu trip to LA. On the evening of Valentine’s Day, we thought it’s be cool to drive down Sunset and try to spot celebrities before heading to dinner. We ended up spending hours inching along that damn street with nary even a D-Lister in sight. By the time we made it through that nightmare, we were grumpy, starving and grumpy. Our romantic V-Day dinner ended up being Jack in the Box back in the hotel room.
That’s the thing. I love Valentine’s Day, I really do. But there’s just so much pressure to do it up big. We used to go all out–scavenger hunts, homemade gifts, brand name gifts, decorating cars, decorating entire rooms. But you start running out of original ideas after ten years. I think I’ve bought him every Kenneth Cole accessory ever made, save dressy socks. And there’s only so many times he can send me on a scavenger hunt before it loses it’s affect. I actually told him to not get me anything this year, which hurts bad because I love me some gifts. However, I’ve recently come to the realization that holidays have become more about the gifts than the celebrations for me. Any and every holiday was just another 14 carat golden opportunity to cross something off my wish list. Also? Since he shops directly from my wish list, and since we share 100% of our finances, I realized that I was basically buying my own gifts. Romantic, no?
As much as it pains me to know a little velvet box won’t be making any appearances tonight, I know it’s for my own good, and I look forward to focusing on our relationship and not what on what he may or may not be hiding in his Kenneth Cole man bag I got him three V-Days ago. What I would really love is to forgo the pressure to have the Most Romantic Valentine’s Day Ever and just order in, watch a romantic comedy and cuddle up on the couch. Just the two of us…that’s what it should be about.
Don’t think I won’t be trying to snoop around for hidden gifts, though. Even when it’s not a special occasion, I’m always talking about, “Why did you bring your bag in the restaurant? What’s in there? Do you have a surprise for me??” And he’s like, “Calm down, woman. It’s just my allergy medicine.” I need help.
she got it from her mama
by si on November 11, 2011 Leave a Comment
Earlier I tweeted about my crazy ass daughter telling me she wants diamond earrings. She’s three.
I was going to add, Who’s child is this?? to that tweet, but I can’t front. She may be her father’s mini me, but her personality is all me. Along with inheriting some of my good qualities, she’s also moody, drama and high maintenance just like her mama. Much to Steve’s chagrin.
Awhile back I saw an episode of Friends where Phoebe and Rachel are calling Monica high maintenance and she’s denying it. Then she tries to convince Chandler to back her up and he goes, “But you kind of are.” And she gets all sad.
Then he says, “But it’s OK! Because I’m easy-going and I balance you out. You may be high maintenance, but I love…maintaining you.”
I turned to Steve. “Awww, how cute! That’s like us! That’s how you feel about me, right?”
From the look he gave me, I’m thinking not.
big red
by si on September 2, 2011 Leave a Comment
A friend and I were talking about how we both almost cried at work this week–she because of a hard day and me because Steve called to say he was having dinner with a co-worker. A female co-worker. Female. Dinner. My friend and I are not usually the crybaby type, but we were both PMS-ing. Sure, I can and will throw down if somebody tries to mess with my man, but dinner work meetings don’t usually make me lose my cool, even if it is with someone of the opposite sex. However, it’s a whole ‘nother story when Big Red comes to town. Steve knows this and so he didn’t trip when I pouted, “I gotta go,” and abrubtly hung up the phone. Or the time I snapped at him over cereal.
Me: Hey, I’m going to stop by the grocery store on the way home from work. Do we need cereal?
Him: Um, I don’t know. I gave the toddler cereal this morning. Oh, and I think the teenager had cereal for breakfast too.
Me: I don’t need the whole history of cereal! I just need a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
(beat)
Him: Are you about to start you’re period?
Me: Yeah. Sorry.
It was a legitimate question on his part and not just a sexist response to my moodiness. He’s actually pretty good about keeping track of Big Red, if for no other reason than to protect himself. After ten years together, he has learned how to deal with my shennanigans and diffuse the situation, which is the only reason our marriage survives the craziness. I feel so bad (most of the time, in retrospect), but I just can’t help it. Dude, hormones are no joke. And the worst part is, it’s like a three-week process with me.
The first sign comes two weeks prior. I get sad. Really, really sad. And am known to say things like, “I can cry at any moment.” Steve used to look at me like I was all crazy town, but now he just pats my hand and proceeds to ignore me, which is the exact right response. No soothing allowed. This is very important. Soothing can irritate and prematurely awaken the beast.
The beast usually rouses one week prior. The irrational anger comes and I say things like, “I need to punch someone in the face.” Or, “You’re annoying me,” when Steve tries to cuddle on the couch. Again, Steve knows the best response is no response. No confrontation. No reasoning. Best to just keep on keeping on.
Finally, the week that Big Red finally makes an appearance, I get mad cravings and can be found digging through the junk drawers for stray candies from last Halloween. One time Steve and I got in a huge fight because he casually questioned my need to buy a cheeseburger. True story. I won’t get into the gory details, but suffice it to say that now I can always get a cheeseburger no questions asked.
Then just as Big Red starts winding down and I’m deboarding the emotional roller coaster, it starts all over again. Steve has a tiny one-week respite before the storm starts brewing yet again. And can you believe after all that abuse, all he has to say is, “It must suck to be a girl.”
Yeah, he’s a keeper.
"This is all we need...a cup of coffee and a little bit of conversation. You and me and five bucks." - Reality Bites