valentine's, or something
So, it's Valentine's day. My girlfriend has choir practice so I guess we'll be hanging out some time later this week. I bought her a tshirt that says "I'm suing my girlfriend's law school for loss of consortium". It's my way of apologizing. Most people will probably think it means I'm not sleeping with her but I am; it's the fact I'm cranky, stressed and busy all the time that probably sucks.
She doesn't bitch, though, which I appreciate. And I don't really care about being all whatever on Valentine's, either. It's not that I'm not romantic. It's that I'm stubborn and don't like to be told what to do or when to do it. I hear about women who get mad at their boyfriends because they don't go get roses and shiny things on Feb 14. Now that's just ignorant. Do you really think some overpriced flowers mean he loves you if they come on a certain day? Incidentally, the Kay's Jeweler's commercials make me sad. Their jingle is "every kiss begins with Kay's". Now that's a crappy relationship; you have to go buy diamonds to get a kiss. I get laid if I take a shower. I did stop by the mall and pick up a ring for her after school yesterday, though. But I did it because I wanted to; not because it's Valentine's day; let's be clear about that. OK, I did it to make her happy. Whatever. But what's great about her is that she'll know the real expression of love isn't the ring, it's that I went to the mall, which I find barely preferable to being chewed on by small animals.
As for the other half of it, she told me yesterday she hadn't gotten me anything for Valentine's, and seemed upset about it. I honestly don't care. I'm just grateful she puts up with me; as long as she's happy, that's all the gift I need.
1 Comments:
O.M.F.G. I read choice sections of this post aloud to a colleague today in the teachers' lounge, and I howled like the idiot I am.
"I get laid if I take a shower" would make a lovely T-shirt to you from your girlfriend (who is in need of a fun and funky pseudonym). They'd love it at law school.
In addition to laughing, I did a Disney-heroine-inspired happy dance, complete with hands clasped to ample bosom and me swinging around with hair and dress flapping in the breeze, haloes of round-eyed birds and a schmaltzy soundtrack. You. Got. Her. A. RING. How fuckin' cool!
I can get with the whole idea that shopping is more of a symbol than the present. Getting me to the mall is a little like running the Iditarod with the sled hooked up to a team of house cats. "You want me to wear _what_ and run _where_? You're fucking kidding me, right?"
You're awe-inspiring.
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