My Funny Valentine

I’m not gonna lie, this Saturday was the best Valentine’s Day ever.

It started off a bit rocky. I had no idea what to expect, since Jack ‘fessed up a week ago that he hadn’t made dinner reservations (i.e. we weren’t going out to dinner because if you don’t make reservations in SF like a month beforehand for Valentine’s Day you’re pretty much screwed).

He does have a lot going on…moving in to the new house on Friday and all, and he did apologize, so no big deal, right?

But when he came over Friday evening, there was no hugging and…no flowers. None. Not even a cheap bouquet from the bodega around the corner. I know I’m a “bit” of a “high-maintenance” girl in “some ways”…but no flowers? Srsly?

So we plopped down on my couch and things were weird. Finally, I decided that I was ruining it for myself so I requested a do-over. Literally. I made Jack go outside and come back in.

When he came in I grabbed him and hugged him and kissed him like nobody’s business. And everything was fine.

I even let him open his Valentine early.

Since I have no money, I went the DIY route and made him 100 valentines, each one with a reason I love him on it. They were fun to make and we hung the big garland up around my apartment. I hadn’t seen how long it was…pretty cool, eh?

Jack's valentine

Jack's valentine

We were both zonked from work, so we decided to order pizza and watch the Valentine’s Day classic, Step Brothers, which despite the awful reviews, is actually hilarious if your brain is on the retarded side…and ours were. On the real.

Saturday morning was all about love, that special kind of saucy love…and coffee. Then we took a nap.

While I was napping, Jack took Holgaroids of the blow-up Bozo-the-Clown he brought me back from Chicago once (R.I.P. Bozo, I loved you).

I actually got to go to the Bozo Show when I was a kid. In Chicago, it's the second-hardest ticket in town, next to Oprah.

I actually got to go to the Bozo Show when I was a kid. In Chicago, it's the second-hardest ticket in town, next to Oprah.

Jack said he almost got me the four foot tall version, but it's still stress-relieving to knock over the 8 inch one. Recommended.

Jack said he almost got me the four foot tall version, but it's still stress-relieving to knock over the 8 inch one. Recommended.

After napping, we totally went to Macy’s to buy stuff for the new house:

fiestacobaltfiestascarletfiestashamrock

fiestasunflowerfiestatangerinefiestaturquoise

Six sets of Fiestaware!

The new sofa!

The new sofa!

and

Two of these club chairs.

Two of these club chairs.

Buying furniture as a couple was…honestly one of the most romantic things we’ve done together. There were a handful of other couples there, and the 7th floor of Macy’s became this really adorably sappy scene with lots of kissing on couches. And, we got pretty giddy when we realized we totally fell in love with the same sofa. That is a big deal, I am telling you.

Almost as romantic when I got to pick out my valentine present: shoes. Of course. Actually boots. Actually Stuart Weitzmann Italian made brown leather boots. I heart them.

The remainder of the weekend included superhot sex, hole-in-ones (those funny egg-in-the-middle-of-the-toast things, which Jack burned, but I ate mine anyway and thought he was cute for trying), more sex, eating truffles and cookies from the very sweet and decadent gift basket my father sent me, and zoning out on television.

Lately, it seems, whenever Jack sleeps over, we fall asleep giggling like little kids. (Confidential to Jack: Oh! Jellycar!)

And that is my weekend love story.

I have never been happier in my life.

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