I, The Love Goddess, am not a lover of Valentine’s Day. For one thing, my son is Cupid, and I’m not fond of all the little cherubic pictures of him with stupid little arrows in his quiver. He’s a much more handsome young man than Hallmark thinks he is, and, well, just imagine having YOUR kids depicted as a chubby little creature in a diaper. That said, my more pressing concern is all my darling lovers down there who are worried about Valentine’s Day the way they worry about Christmas. What should I get her? What’s he going to bring me? How much will it cost? Are chocolates okay?
My friend Andrew, who lives in San Francisco, tells me of a woman he once went out with whom he took out on Valentine’s Day, arriving with flowers and taking her to a lovely restaurant. He was proud of his evening plans and sure he’d please her. But no. She was mad from the moment he picked her up. “Why didn’t you send flowers to my OFFICE?” she complained as he handed her a dozen roses at her door. To her, the point of flowers were to impress her coworkers. For him, a rose was a rose was a rose–and far more romantic when presented in private. You know how I feel about expectations–how they’re the death knell of real romance.
Dear ones, don’t get into the commercial part of Valentine’s Day. It’s a holiday that takes advantage of my good name and my son’s, too. The Love Goddess is a far, far better woman (as Cupid a far, far better boy) than anything Hallmark can devise. So, listen: Tomorrow we’ll talk about some really romantic things to do for Valentine’s Day–“romantic” as defined by me, the real thing, not by either Hallmark or Godiva.
