I hate Valentine’s Day. There. I said it. And that doesn’t make me an un-romantic person. It’s just that my idea of romance isn’t someone feeling forced to buy me flowers because it’s a national holiday. What are we all, just a bunch of sheep? Don’t answer that. Let’s all just say Baaaaah.
Valentine’s Day has always been a traumatic experience in my life. I remember in high school you could secretly buy someone a carnation and send it to them in class — which meant by the end of the day the most popular girls in high school would be walking around barely able to carry all the carnations in their arms – and the rest of us were slithering through the halls carnation-less like a bunch of untouchables in Les Miserables.
I remember the looks on the popular girl’s faces (mostly in clichéd cheerleader outfits) — They tried to stay modest, but every molecule of their beings just screamed suck it, losers. I would usually get a meager one or two of these secret carnations and I always knew who they were from – a disturbing boy from the AV department who ate his boogers and would draw pictures of me in various scenarios (dancing on the beach alone, posing next to a hot rod, playing the guitar) and shove them in my locker when I wasn’t around. I only wish I still had these drawings so when my kids got to high school I could pull them out and say, “So you think you have it bad.”
As an adult my Valentine’s didn’t get much better simply because of my disdain for receiving flowers. I would always forget to tell a boyfriend in advance that I hated getting flowers and then Valentine’s Day would roll around and there I would be with a plastered smile on my face saying, “Oh, they’re beautiful! Let me put them in a vase so I can slowly watch them die over the next week and then my cats can tip the whole thing over and my house can forever be infused with the smell of rotting water.”
Now that I’m married my husband knows to keep it simple – salted caramels and a quiet dark place away from children to eat them in.
But the real question is — What to get my husband for Valentine’s Day? Yikes. That’s another story. I have always failed miserably on that one and end up just getting him a bottle of wine (and a quiet dark place away from children to drink it in.)
This year, I thought I’d surprise my husband with a scarf that I knitted. But it looks like I won’t be quite finished with it by Valentine’s.
I thought I was just going to have to give up and get my husband a bottle of wine again, but fortunately, I was saved by an email I got from one of my favorite eco-friendly clothing stores – Indigenous. It’s a fair trade company that makes amazing clothes for men and women. Most of the clothes are organic and they are all made by artisans in South America. I’ve had some of my Indigenous clothes for years – they last forever and they are sooooo comfortable.
I got my husband the Organic Rancher shirt in blue. It just arrived in the mail and it’s awesome.
And if you shop before February 6th and type in the promo code – HEART25 – you get twenty-five percent off your purchase! So if you’re wondering what to get the man this year, look no further than Indigenous.
This is the first Valentine’s gift I’ve ever given my husband that I’ve been excited about because I felt like I was doing some eco-good… Not just sheeping along with the rest of the proletariate on this forced, unromantic, Orwellian holiday.
So Happy Valentine’s Day, Bill.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Planet Earth.
And Happy Valentine’s Day to all the carnation-covered popular girls that I went to high school with. Suck it, losers.
(No, I’m not bitter at all.)