Oh, I couldn’t possibly have updated last night, as I was too busy with the rituals of Valentines Day. Oh so giddy with amore and champagne. It was an evening organised in a way that only Dan and I can do: haphazardly, at the last minute, with minimal forethought, but with Great Success at the end. Dinner was all about Italian in Paddington, and my last minute booking rewarded our lazy selves with complimentary wine, a table on the deck, the lightest garlic bread ever, and for the win, an acoustic cover of Eye of the Tiger. The tealight candle lasted long enough for our dinner and snuffed out when we departed.
I have a history of being wholly unimpressed with the Valentines Day shemozzle. I guess all I needed was some gent to make me that giddy for me to want to shower them in appropriate yet slightly atypical presents. I guess I am still not one for candies and roses, but I do like any stupid occasion that allows me to indulge my wicked gift-giving skills. In return, from my gift-inept boy, was a wholly inappropriate (birthday) card with the most syrupy message, so sweet I thought it may have been time to get over my hatred for the dentist and get some cavities filled. And Dan’s ridiculous card was just so frightfully perfect there was no need for him to buy anything else. To (shamefully) illustrate just how much I loved it, I even discretely brought it to work today, in case I needed something to cheer me up. And after the frantic day I had, I pulled it out in the car on the way home, and predictably and shamefully I read it while driving. I swooned all over the highway like some nineteenth-century damsel with some ridiculous grin plastered on her face. It is likely that it will be perused again before bed, sending me no doubt into fits of frenetic swooning.
you have a serious problem that you need to talk to someone about.