Thursday, February 14, 2008

My Valentine

I think outside of Christmas that Valentine’s Day is the most talked about holiday we celebrate… What do you give? Where do you go? How much do you spend? Will she get a ring tonight? Will he ask? I’m waiting for the year we start doing the “only this many shopping days until Valentine’s” countdown.

Eleven years ago today was a chilly, rainy Friday in Florida. It didn’t matter, though. That was the day that we went to the courthouse and got married, just the two of us. Our wedding would be in March. We did the courthouse thing because we wanted to celebrate our anniversary on Valentine’s Day and that date wasn’t going to work logistically for family and friends or for a venue. So we wed secretly. It was fun.

A lot has happened in eleven years. My husband is gone, now. Valentine’s Day for me is usually about my son and what he’ll do for school. This year he wanted to buy his teacher a teddy bear because she collects them. He picked out a bear, and I could not have chosen any better myself. He insisted on attaching all of the Sweetheart candy packs to his cards himself. (Stubborn like his mama!)

This morning I was dreading getting out of bed, because I knew today would be a constant reminder of the person who isn’t here anymore, so I delayed as long as I could… My son, however, had a different attitude. He got up (before me!), got dressed and was waiting on me to get into the car. He was proud of the gift he had for his teacher and excited about receiving valentines and a pizza party. I was happy for him. In a way, I’m happy for me, too: The man that I loved is not here anymore, but the wonderful man that I am raising is right before me. I can’t imagine a better Valentine’s Day present than that.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

They F*** You In The Drive-Thru!!!

Today’s rant is brought to you by the annoying redhead…

Since yesterday the temperature here has dropped about twenty degrees, so I figured for a nice change-o-pace I’d cruise through the drive through and get a rib-sticking but not wallet-cramping lunch. It went something like this:

Microphone: Take your order?
Me: Yes. I’d like a small chili, baked potato and a large Diet Coke.
Microphone: (Silent.)
Me: (Silent.)
Microphone: Just a minute.
Me: (Silent.)
Microphone: That was a large chili and a small diet?
Me: No. A small chili, a baked potato and a large Diet Coke.
Microphone: Four-fifty.
Me: (Silent at window.)
Window: Four-fifty.
Me: Here you go. (Hand over cash.)
Window: (Hands me beverage.)
Window: (Hands me change.)
Window: (Hands me bag.)
Me: (Look inside bag and see fries and a sandwich.)
Me: This isn’t mine. (Hand back bag.)
Window: What did you have?
Me: A small (&*$!ing) chili, baked (&*$!ing) potato and a large (&*$!ing) Diet Coke!
Window: Oh. Give me that. (Points to drink.) That’s not yours.
Me: (Hand over drink.)
Window: (Hands me a different bag of food and the same (&*$!ing) drink I just handed over a second ago!)
Me: Thanks.
Window: Sorry.
Me: No problem.

Get back to work and enjoy (&*$!ing) slightly cooked potato with quarter-sized portion of Wacky Whip (or whatever stuff they are using as margarine). Chili is OK. Thank goodness I had some crackers in my desk.