Congratulations! You survived another (obligatory holiday) Valentine's Day.
For once hubby and I got Valentine's Day right. Rather than feel the pressure to purchase gifts that neither of us need (or want), we spent the weekend celebrating our first loves - food and booze. We unapologetically stuffed our faces at one of our favorite restaurants, then followed it up by spending way too much money on spirits we've only dreamed of trying. It was awesome!
Of course having been brainwashed by society's idea of romance, I felt we should do at least one romantic thing this weekend. So I made us some cocktails and we cuddled up on the couch and watched Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday. For most of my adult life I have seen references to this classic love story and felt left out. I managed to check Breakfast at Tiffany's off my movie bucket list a few weeks ago, so Roman Holiday seemed like the next obvious choice. In all I'm glad I got to watch Roman Holiday. When it was over I turned to hubby and said "I don't get it."
Now, I get the plot line. Royalty is bored with their privileged lifestyle and runs away to experience real living. I get that. What I don't get is what's so freaking romantic about it. Maybe there's a glitch somewhere in my girl software. I was hoping for tears and to have my heart feel like it was going to explode. I didn't get that. I also couldn't get past the age difference between Audrey and Gregory. He's like 13 years her junior! No, you can keep your Roman Holiday. As hubby proclaimed "I like Knotting Hill better."
I'm not surprised that hubby and I didn't swoon over their love affair. We've never really been the romantic types. Our first Valentine's day he treated me to flowers, homemade gifts and a beautiful card that he wrote the most touching message in. I did nothing. I suggested we spend the evening on my couch watching King of Queens reruns. (A show that we realized later neither of us liked.)
Then there was the Valentine's Day that I made him fortune cookies with personalized messages inside. He didn't realize there were actual messages inside and ate a handful still stuffed with paper.
And we're both still trying to forget the Valentine's Day I ruined because I was mortified he hadn't proposed. Audrey would have been proud of the cries and thrashing I put on that night. Man I'm glad those days are gone.
Once we got over the need to live up to everyone else's idea of romance, we've been much happier. You can keep your flowers and sexy under-things. Give me a fully stocked home bar and food cooked in real butter instead. That's what I call real love.