be forewarned.

I had big Valentine’s plans.

Big Valentine’s plans for you… the reader… subscriber.

I was going to share with you an entry in the journal [it’s like a blahg but with pen and paper… more work] about love.  Love as a question.  Love as a doubt.  Love as a choice.  Love as a mystery.  Love as a hindrance.  Love as an inheritance.  Love as a relief.  Love as a surprise.

I was going to scan it in and everything… and I might still… but not now.

The day became too busy.  I’m sitting here now, later than earlier, dinner being cooked for me [by the way, feminists, i’m scoring major points for us tonight], wine being drank, nothing that takes more time than typing or shoveling food or lifting a glass to lips is going to happen tonight.

My day was [unexpectedly] filled from start to finish.

Started with working, sitting in bed.  Working and skyping with my best friend and listening to KHOL… my friend, Colleen, playing love songs.

Requesting my favorite song ever.  And then when I heard the bells and drums of those first few bars, I jumped outta bed [still in my scandalous pjs] and danced all around the bedroom, the apartment:

The best start to a morning EVER.  And then she played Seal and then Boyz II Men and well, I was in bliss.

And then a friend wanted to do lunch and YES, of course.

Because I haven’t really figured out romantic love… I haven’t.  My boyfriend knows this.

[that’s him… trying to get in the shot.  jk, love.]

But I know the truth in the love of friendship.  And when a friend calls, you say, “yes”… because it’s love.

So we lunched and it was hilarious/delightful.

And then I rushed home to make the cake that is my Valentine’s gift to the bf.

I wish someone would have filmed this kitchen adventure.  It was comical/tragic.  I would’ve made millions on the movie rights.

Recipe Book:  Pour the chocolate batter into the cream batter and fold it.

Me:  Ummmm…. The “chocolate batter” is in balls and has weird pockets of whiteness in it… I’m just gonna pick it up and plop it in the whitish bowl.

The cake could very well be horrible.  We’ll find out later.

Then a friend called and wanted to go for a drink.  And I said “yes”.  Because of love.  And because of the love you choose and want and the laughter in love and yes and yes.

We went to a crowded bar and sat at a table next to a man eating dinner by himself.  He warned us…

– Be forewarned, I usually like to flirt with young, cute girls.

– Ha.  Okay, we’re officially warned.

But he really didn’t flirt with/bother us at all.  Didn’t even really talk to us.

My friend [the cute one] and I tried to figure out what to drink.  It’s 2-for-1s at this bar’s happy hour, so we had to agree on a drink.

– Are margaritas two for ones?

– I dunno.  I thought last time you got one you had to pay more.

– Hmmm… I should ask.  I kinda want a marg.  Would you want one if they were two for one?

– No.

– Ha.  Okay, we’ll get beer.

So we had our beers and had a great time catching up and laughing at ridiculousness around us.  The older man next to us finished his meal, paid and then came over to me and put his hand on my back.

He put a ten dollar bill on the table and said…

– Here.  Have the margarita.  You should always get what you want on Valentine’s Day.

I was so taken back.  So surprised.

Then he left.

The kindness of an older man.  Sitting alone.

Who was he?  Who is he?  What is the love in his life?  What is the story of the love that has been in his life?

Sitting, eating alone, watching the world go around, making note of silly little problems and being human enough to recognize the beauty in the silly little problems and oh, wait… the even more beautiful sister of those problems that is the silly solution… the random act of kindness.  Gorgeous.

LOVE.

[randomness.]

[beauty.]

Happy Valentine’s Day.

I hope you get what you want.