Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentine's Day

I was so impressed... and grateful.

On a day when multiple husbands came into gym class to present their wives with valentines and new bouquets were arriving at HQ every hour, Evan successfully dodged cultural pressure to deliver roses, chocolates, jewelery and the like.

Instead, he gave me just what I needed on a day when I was feeling sick as a dog-- ginger/lemon/echinacea juice (my favorite).

To feel known --as in, "He knows me."
-- is a joy.

On nights when I wake up at midnight reduced to tears of frustration by stabbing, prickly pain that makes me want to rip my skin off
(happens all too often these days), Evan patiently searches the house in his pajamas for aloe vera and books that describe pressure points to relieve the electrical storm in my body. I value those tender, intimate moments way more than being on the receiving end of a Hallmark card gesture on a random day in February.

So thanks and love to my valentine for making me feel blessed on a daily basis.

As for the fake shotgun wedding thrown by NOLS Japan in celebration of Cupid and his works...

It blew my mind the way folks rallied and brought their A game.

The crazy cat woman had hand-drawn feline portraits in her locket. The ring bearer wore a shorts suit and scoured town for ring pops to place on a frilly, heart-shaped pillow.
The bride wore a gown donated for the occasion by a now-divorced friend. The flower girl tossed foam hearts and tried to understand the nature of his mom's "wrestling" with the bride in college. Maritime law was declared at one point by the ship captain in penny loafers who preformed the ceremony. The ostrich feathers from my pillbox hat keep on getting in my mouth (originally I was cast as Xanadu, the stripper from the night before who hadn't been paid, but then I transformed into the mother of the bride when Amy found a costume at the Methodist Thrift Store that was too good to pass up). The bride's sorority sister got into it with the pushy videographer. The father of the bride sipped on his flask and looked dashing with his chrysanthemum boutonnière as he kept the peace between his daughters and found a solution when the intended groom was a no-show. The DJ stayed aloof and looked hot as she spun classic tunes for the dance floor. The wedding photographer captured the magic, but so far the photos have remained sheltered from view in order to protect the innocent.


I laughed until I cried at the sheer ridiculousness of the evening and was
proud to call these people my friends.

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