V is for Validity

Here is what's making me barf today.

I'm pretty excited about spending my first Valentine's Day with Zac. I'm trying to have little to no expectations so that I'm not at all disappointed. I know he has made a reservation at some restaurant as long as it's not the burger pit I'll be fine. Mostly I am excited because I can't wait to give him his gifts which I worked on for hours. And I probably should stop hyping it up so his expectations don't get out of control. After all, it's really not that big of a deal. It's more thoughtful and personal than anything.

I'll give you a brief history about Valentine's day and me. On a Valentine's Day long ago, there was a young beautiful girl who was occasionally and periodically dating a very handsome man who happened to be living and working up in San Francisco. This fellow of hers was the type to not be tied down with mushy overly emotional relationships and baggage, but the same could not be said about his roommate. His roommate planned to be occupying their house for the evening with his valentine day plans and requested him to make arrangements to be absent. Being an accomodating kind of guy he called up his here and there girl down in San Jose and made plans to roll on through for the evening. She made dinner and they had a nice romantic evening staying in at her place. Romance was in the air everywhere and so intoxicated with the holiday they pretended to be more than they were and took things to the bedroom. The next day he left and returned up to San Francisco and went on about his carefree womanfree life. About a month later, the beautiful young lady realized that her valentine evening love making had resulted in her coming up pregnant. The child within her womb would one day be called lizapalooza. Yes, the year was 1977. The child that was created that night is me. And Valentine's Day is what is referred to in my family as my make-me day. A day that historically throughout my youth has meant being taken out to dinner and given presents by my parents. But now I have a boyfriend and the holiday for me has transformed more into the socially explicit hallmark celebration of love and romance rather than "the day my parents got freaky and made me". So if you see me around tomorrow online or in person, remember to shout out a happy make me day to me.