The panic of Valentines day is like the feeling that you have left the house with the iron on. You think you are all good doing what you are doing, going about your day, but you have a slight feeling that things can go up in smoke....I'm saying this whether you are single, married, open, or in love with your work mate.
So, to lighten the mood of the most contrived commercial 'holiday' I have a story.
This Valentines' I am single. (Like I have been for probably about 22 of the 25 Valentines days I have seen but, whatever)
Still, I'm not without men in my life, they are all really special, in their own way, and since I don't have one in particular to share my heart shaped chocolates with, I'll share the stories with you.
The main one is Max. When I'm with him, I'm feline good. He always takes time to paws and show me lots of affection. You could say what we have is purrfect, I mean, he's the only cat fur me and he sometimes makes jokes but when he's serious he's definitely not kitten around.
I met a writer and I thought he was just my type, and the baker was cool but a little kneady, but my barista, Joe, he makes me laugh a latte. For our first date we went to an Italian restaurant and he told me I've stolen a pizza his heart. That was a little cheesy for a first date so I asked the Italian waitress to pasta bill and made a quick getaway.
Then there's Tom, my vegan crush. He's also from the UK and I'm just waiting for him to ask me to come back his house and avocuddle. He's a hopeless romantic though; he hand pressed some flowers and dyed them red using natural dye and told me his heart beets for me and "Joana, I love you from my head tomatoes." It's all a bit nuts and he called me 20 times in one day and I had to just pick up the phone and say "Tom- I'll cashew later."
After I lived in Denmark I realised it's the blondes I generally take a viking to. That being said, I wouldn't mind Czechin' out a few Eastern Europeans too, as long as they take things slow, I don't know if I can handle a guy who is always russian.
Mark was a fantastic guy. Creative, he made puppets and could do voices, but he was never willing to Kermit. I thought I would give him another go, so we went and got some Vietnamese. When I asked Mark where he thought things were heading he said he was crazy pho me but wasn't ready for strings. Rich words coming from a puppeteer, I thought.
Some might say I've had a pretty shoddy run in the man department (excluding Max, of course) but I remain ever hopeful. This Valentines' I'm flying to NZ, where I will meet my next love on the plane, go to the supermarket (New World, NZ's fanciest supermarket) and get some limes but then I will drop them and pick them up again and drop them and pick them up again for about 10 mins and he will ask me what he's doing and I'll tell him I'm sorry but I'm just not very good at pickup limes.
And then he will marry me.
The end.
If your Valentine's is half as cringe-worthy-eyerollingly-dad-joke-a-licious as this blog, then you should be chuffed.
Jj
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