Valentine's Day or Schmalentine's Day?

Valentines Day: you love it, you hate it. Sometimes, you feel a little of both. A lot of singletons view Valentine's Day with ire, other's use it as an excuse to celebrate themselves. Some couples stress about that special date, caring for every detail. Then, there are those hopeful expectations only to be dashed with bitter disappointment. Other couples shrug it off and order pizza to celebrate the day for lovers.

Two of my favorite Valentine's Days happened when I was single in college and when I had been "coupled" with that special someone for a year.

When I was in college, a friend of mine and I decided to boycott Valentine's day. But instead of lurking in our dorm rooms, listening to Indigo Girls and Pearl Jam, we decided to go at it with gusto. We both wore black in protest and headed out to a nearby coffee shop to partake of as many desserts as possible. Other friends of ours stopped by to join in the festivities. We all got high off of caffeine and sugar, and agreed to protest again the following year--regardless if we were single or not.

Another time was when I had been dating my fellow for about a year, and I had forsworn any Valentine's Day celebrating the year before--saying it brought bad juju anytime I had a fellow to celebrate Valentine's Day with. But the fellow insisted that the bad luck would not transfer to us. We went out to a nice romantic dinner and had coffee after. He brought me flowers (another bad omen of mine in the past) and we had a lovely evening--despite my fears. That fellow wanted to dash my concern once and for all that Valentine's Day wasn't an apocalyptic day of reckoning, but a day to spend with that special someone.

This year we might just order pizza instead--and that is just fine. Every day is special for us. I'm still with my same sweetie, and now I call him Husband.

Do you have any special plans? Will you lurk in the darkness and eat chocolate? Are you going out with that special someone? Was there a Valentine's Day that you will always remember--for good or for ill? Inquiring amour-osophersophers want to know!

Poll Results: What were you thinking?!

Alas, I've decided to end the long respite and start a blogging question once per week. Hence, our poll results are in for What was the dumbest thing you ever said?

This last love poll inquired: Have you ever regretted saying something stupid to that special someone? It could have been a first date, it could have been after years of involvement. Most of us have wished we were less free with our speech at times. When was yours?

Most of us out there confessed to there is something to be said about being too honest, resulting in some not-so-tasty feet for that candle-lit dinner. The majority, 41 percent (5 amour-osophers) admitted, "I made a mistake--I told the truth."

The second largest group made their voices heard (or not-so heard) by officially keeping mum on why they spoke those unretractable words. Three amour-osophers pleaded the fifth (35 percent).

Only two amour-osophers (16 percent) admitted to tripping over their words by trying to impress someone, but doing quite the reverse.

A couple amour-osophers (16 percent) also admitted to saying something stupid in the heat of anger, only to regret what they said once their tempers cooled.

Thanks to Kimchihead and Rybu for admitting some of their past mistakes for the sake of exploring the nature of true love. We amour-osophers out there wish you luck in your pursuits in finding and holding onto that special someone.

Vote Results: When did you realise it was over?

When did you know it was the beginning of the end? Was it like Seinfeld, and the refrigerator rocked a few times? Were you the last to know? Or did you end it on your terms?

When the fat lady sang. 0 votes (0 percent)

When you said it was over. 1 vote (20 percent)

When you got dumped. 1 vote (20 percent)

Gradually--then suddenly. 3 votes (60 percent)

What was the dumbest thing you ever said?

In my formative college years, I once attempted to compliment my boyfriend's . . . errr . . . prowess. (Back story: He was--shall we say--diminutive in a portion of his anatomy.) I told him he was quality over quantity.

Surprise, surprise. He wasn't flattered.

The Beginning of the End

This week (yes, I've been remiss in updating the question of the week) discusses when you knew it was over. It takes a while to find companions to enjoy life's adventures--often getting knocked around with a few potholes and lemon relationships. Whether or not you've found your soul mate, more than likely you've seen a few relationships end. (I'm very lucky--I found Hun and we've been geeking out ever since.)

Sometimes it's a swift and sudden battle to the end with a Viking's funeral. Sometimes the death lingers over years. At some point though, both parties acknowledge the relationship isn't working--weather they end it is a different story.

I just graduated college and I was seeing a guy for about six months. We were talking about how our best friends were involved in this intricate dance of torturing each other in their unique version of Romance Hell, and weren't we more evolved beings not to involve our own relationships in such drama.

He then said to me to address our superiority, "I've never loved you, and I don't think I ever will. But I know that. They just keep on lying to each other and pretending they are."

I then realized we were even bigger pretenders than our friends. We were two strangers posing as a couple.

I ended it officially the next day.

What's your story about the beginning of the end?

First Date

I was a bit of a late bloomer. I didn't have my first real date until my freshman year of college. Throughout high school, I would hang out with my friends at prom and homecoming.
That first date also turned out to be a fraternity date party and I was set up by one of my newfound friends.

The guy wound up having literally one eyebrow. He bragged a lot about drinking and the joys of fraternity life and all the amazing, impressive, and jeuvenile things fraternity guys did. He showed me his room and and he and his roommates talked to me about "shacking" and "fuck sheets". I had a decent conversation with his best friend, who was dating the girl who set me up. Although, nothing will make a dumbass coed's heart go pitter patter than recanting of drinking games and other exploits.

I was actually impressed.

Boy, I was also really stupid.

Any stories of your own. Hopefully your first date went a little better.

Or perhaps, tell me of a great or horrible first date of a relationship you are in now . . .

First Crush . . .

I remember my first crush . . . his name was Peter. I was 12 years old, skinny, with knobs for knees, and painfully shy. He had sea-blue eyes I could swim in.

Unfortunately, Peter was also a bit of a prick. He enjoyed taunting me mercilessly, as I was one of the worst swimmers on our summer swim league. He and his gang accosted and kidnapped me at the swim league's annual surprise breakfast. I was exhilarated at the idea of squidging next to Peter on the car ride to the pool and mortified I went out with both unbrushed teeth and hair.

Who's to say why we fall head over heels for our first crush.

What made your head turn for yours?

Stories greatly appreciated . . .