Valentine’s Day Redux

Can I just preface this post before you begin that I finally do cuss – a lot.  So be forewarned.  Although it’s very tame compared to what might have been…


Valentine’s Day always does something to me.  Maybe it’s from those years spent trapped in an all-girls’ Catholic high school and watching every girl get roses delivered to them (we were all 15 years old for crying out loud – who are these boyfriends who could afford these humongous bouquets of roses??) that one year I finally told my dad to send me one anonymously ASAP – and he did.

Not that it made me feel better, since I knew who they came from.  And knowing that your daddy just sent you a beautiful humongous bouquet of roses because he took pity on you isn’t exactly romantic.  Right?

But I digress.

It’s now years and years later and this day still gets to me.

Not because I still don’t get roses (because when I do, I’m like, so you wanna get laid or what?  what are you trying to say????), I’m so used to that – my SO’s idea of a romantic gesture is take-out from California Pizza Kitchen even after I show him all the same humongous bouquets of roses the same high school friends now on Facebook paste all over my time line with captions that read “After 20 YEARS I finally get a bouquet of roses from hubby!”

I’m sorry, but captions like that should be kept under wraps, and that hubby needs to get flogged.  Twenty fucking years? You had to wait twenty fucking years to get a humongous bouquet of roses???  Hell, if it did happen to me, I’m not saying anything on Facebook at all!

Besides, I buy myself these humongous bouquets of roses already.  Who needs the hubby to do that?  I so wanted to do that on her timeline but why burst that bubble?

See what Valentine’s Day does to me?

Anyway, after an amorous evening (totally not!) spent skulking over the CPK take out, the little guy running off with MY Thai Chicken pizza, and the tiff over the unfolded bits of laundry lying about the house (I am trying to finish a darn book after all), I decided to see how romantic I do get as a writer with passages of my own – all penned on non-Valentine’s Days because it is my belief that this day is totally not all it’s cut out to be.  It also made me realize that if I were to have a romantic evening with lots of hot sex like I write about in my stories, there is NO way I’m eating more than one slice of that Thai Chicken pizza.  And the tiramisu?  Fuggedaboutit.  Any one with me on this?

I always wait till it’s over before I raid the fridge and eat what I was supposed to eat hours before.  That’s my secret.  It’s my M.O.  Don’t tell anyone.

That and my blood sugar has gone down so dangerously low from all that in-bed-out-of-bed-hot-sex that now I’ve got a headache to boot as well, thank you very much.

This led me to wonder about how the opposite sex (or same sex for that matter, I can bat for both teams if I need to) feels about this.  Does doing it on a full stomach feel much better than not a full stomach?  I have a feeling that the answer might be – it doesn’t matter either way, baby, but I could be wrong.

You see, women like me have to keep that tummy as flat as possible in trying to emulate every damn sex scene we see in our heads all manufactured from Hollywood.  Not that I’ve long lost that belly I somehow acquired after having the little guy via C-Section and trying to get it flatter with DDP yoga (I did buy into Arthur’s awesome transformation and got the whole package to be just like him – in like ten years), but pizza and tiramisu don’t help it look any flatter either.

But if all else fails, just turn off that damn light even though he might like to “see”.  Um, not if you want to tap this, you’re not.  But if you pay for the lipo, tummy tuck, nose job, skin peel, and over-all overhaul, be my guest.  And while we’re at it, why not my teeth, too.

I’ve digressed yet again, I see.

Anyway, so I went to look at some of my ‘romantic’ stories posted on Wattpad, the only ones I do post since they’re fanfic and my original stories are still in my hard drive with scenes totally NSFW, if you know what I mean.  These posted stories are the erotica ones that I’ve been working on to challenge myself that I can write better than that gal who does Whatever-Number-Shades-of-Gray (having a too-beautiful man as a muse doesn’t hurt either – you know who you are!) and after a few minutes of reading this line and that line, I ended up editing the whole bit and spent the next four hours making a fanvid for one of them just because it was Valentine’s day and I had nothing really better to do.

So anyway, I ended up hopping right back into the fangirl rabbit hole and I’m just barely climbing my way out two days later.  So in honor of this over-rated, there’s-just-too-much-pressure-for-me-to-be-romantic-and-didn’t-you-know-I-hate-doing-house-work-that-one-day-I-will-pay-for-a-damn-maid day, I made this fanvid for my story, Return to Sparkhouse.

And oh, just to make it a bit harder for English-only speaking folks, the song playing is Creo En Ti, Spanish for I Believe In You (and that’s going to be the only romantic thing about this post today) – even though I don’t speak Spanish at all but for the perfect Mr. Right-Now with the accent to die for, I just might start doing so.


SO – Significant Other

ASAP – As Soon As Possible or ASAFP with F representing you-know-what

NSFW – Not Safe For Work

MO – Modus Operandi

CPK – California Pizza Kitchen – I just love their Thai Chicken pizza!

And if you’re still reading this far down, here’s to those who had a wonderful Valentine’s day.  Since this post has much to do with sex, or lack of it, here’s one for those who did get some: