No Valentines for Me from Boys

Feel sorry for me please.  I can’t even get newly-separated Grace to go out with me tonight.  She’s probably out with her daughter for a “girls night.”.  My married girlfriends are obviously out with their own husbands.  (I hope.)  My mom has just spent the weekend here so no chance of getting her back out.  And, even if my errant husband hadn’t left me again for a two-week stay at National Fire Academy, my sitter Howie, is undoubtedly out with one of the N Sync kids.  (Or at the new N Sync show at the I-Max with other girls screaming at the five story tall images of their favorites.)

If I stay in and have a scotch it’s called, “drinking alone.”  If I announce it to everyone today in the paper I may get a last minute invite from Stacey Powells or Pauline Harte.  I can’t even grab take out or drive though with Samantha without being embarrassed.  How pathetic.

What to plan, what to plan?  Samantha wants to see “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” but with her 7:30 bedtime that leaves that out for tonight.  If I take her out to dinner beepered couples at BJ’s’ll surround us.
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  If we stay in, and do our usual routine, I’m back at square one.  Lonely and desperate by 8:00 PM.

Ed hid five different presents around the house for her, one for me.  At least he thought about it before he left town.  (It might have helped that I reminded him that if he didn’t it would cost him a pretty hefty floral arrangement via FTD while he was gone.  And numerous other imaginable guilt trips of course.)  Because he’s a firefighter it isn’t the first time this has happened.  In fact, Ed usually signs up for overtime days on holidays.  He’s an adorable mercenary isn’t he?  Instead of a gun for hire he just offers up that “red” car for hire.

I made candy Valentines a week ago with my gal pal, and local dentist, Kim.  I made so many Valentine cookies with Samantha and Meagan that I had to bring the excess to work, frightening to think that some of my thirty co-workers might think I like them.  Sam practiced her printing, per her kindergarten teacher’s request, on over twenty Valentines, and after cutting hearts at her school I couldn’t bear to toss the excess so we made Valentine bookmarkers at home (Again practicing her printing and numbers so that each bookmark is “lovingly” inscribed with the alphabet or the numbers 1-25.).

Do you think I’ve put too much focus on this particular holiday?  Would the Eve of Destruction be counted on for less?  More is better!  Better for the crazies!

I guess my plan of loosing any weight while Ed’s gone is right out the window too, as I’m too busy wallowing in despair to get off the couch and put away a half eaten bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos.  I’ve got no problem licking my fingers and diving back in for the crumbs, as I’ve got NO ONE TO SHARE THE LAST ONE WITH.
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  I need comfort food to get me through this.  Creamy things like sour cream in an onion dip and soft-serve ice cream.  Hey!  Do they still offer those candy-grams at school?  The teachers must have just Xeroxed the note that read to and from with blank lines in between.  And at the very top corner a beautiful See’s caramel, dark chocolate or peanut butter sucker laid bare just waiting to be plucked.

I don’t think I ever got one of those from a guy you know.  Girls sent them to each other back then.  The same girls you giggled with on the phone before and after puberty set in.  The same girls you dressed for.  The ones you did your hair and make-up for to come to think of it.  The same girls, from Venus, that could talk to you for hours after your boyfriend, from Mars, had hung up to go hang out with his friends.  And then, sometime after Junior High School, those girls started to leave.

I prided myself that no boy took the place of my girlfriends.  I hated the idea that I could be so shallow.  It wasn’t until I met Eddie that a close friend accused me of only getting together with her on days Eddie wasn’t available.  I fought being labeled a stereotype.  I told her that with his schedule I only saw him three or four days a week anyway.  After we were married it was obvious to all that I had traded female friendships for marriage.

So that’s it!  On this holiday I want to wish a happy Valentines Day to all the lovely girlfriends I’ve had in forty-one years whose names I can remember: Felicia, Lauren-Charlotte, Ann, Kisa, Rosa, Lourdes, Ruth, Nora, Julie I, Julie II, Mandy, Chris I, Chrissy Ellen, Janice, Kim I and Kim II.  On this holiday I can safely admit that I’ve loved more women as platonic friends than men as lovers.  What does that say?  I should have remained close, and kept men afar, so I could count on one of them tonight!