My valentines day started off with being awoken at 7am to hear the sound of the husband cussing after he hit his leg on a corner of an end table while he tried to sneak out the front door to go to the store to buy me something. Ever the planner, that man. Nothing like thinking ahead. When I got out of the shower he was home (I take long showers) and surfing the internet. I go in the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and there I see a vase with three roses and a small mylar balloon which says “I love you”. Sweet, I admit. But two of the roses were half dead. I thanked him and like an ungrateful fish wife, I asked “did you realize two of the roses are dead?” I was blasted, very loudly, with “excuse me for not realizing everything would be picked over. I’m sorry but it was all they had, okay?” he screamed at me. That pretty much killed Valentines Day for me. Yes, I shouldn’t have mentioned that two of the roses were dead. But he shouldn’t have yelled at me. It took away what ever meaning the roses might have had and turned the gift into an obligation. No one wants their gift to be an obligation. Things kind of went downhill from there pretty much the entire day. I was disappointed that the man who used to plan elaborate romantic valentine day surprises and activities was reduced to running out to buy me dead roses at the last minute. Valentines Day always had special meaning for us because… well for many reasons I won’t go into. But also because we were engaged on valentines day. Now it’s been reduced to an obligation. How very sad.
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I suggested we go to the Indianapolis Museum of Art
and spend the day drinking in the beauty of Van Gough, Renoir, Rembrandt and Monet, just to name a few. So off we went. I had been there before but this was the hubster’s first time at IMA. They have a wonderful restaurant there called Wolfgang’s. Yes, Wolfgang Pucks. They have the best burgers in this world. Paired with a vodka martini (with Gray Goose of course) it is the absolutely best meal on the planet when you are spending the day looking at world renowned art. At lunch, over my martini and the husbands bourbon, I gave him his valentines day present. A gift certificate for a one hour full body massage, to be redeemed the next day at 10:30am. I also gave him a book he has been wanting and a nice card. I kept waiting for a card or something more than dead roses, but nothing. Oh well. But, I got to see my favorite art piece, a funerary monument of Flavius from 100AD. I got to see my beloved Monet’s and Renoir’s. It should have been a perfect day. Okay, crappy day aside, I do admit that we had a wonderful time at the art museum. But the drive home killed any fun we may have had. On the drive home we kept hearing a squeaky sound from the back seat where the seat belt was tapping against the leather seat. In the middle of rush hour traffic on Meridian Street I hang my torso into the back to adjust the shoulder belt so it won’t tap against the seat and somehow managed to hit the seat release, which caused the back seat to spring forward, slapping me in the face so hard that it broke my glasses and almost broke my nose. So there we are, driving in bumper to bumper rush hour traffic with me holding my nose while tears stream down my face and the hubster screaming at me “What happened, what’s wrong?” Yes, people were staring. I am sure, had I been able to see, I would have been embarrassed. We made a quick stop at home to grab an ice pack, then went to the eyeglass store to have my glasses fixed.
After my glasses were fixed we picked up some lamb chops and a movie. Then we went home where I ended up cooking dinner and washing dishes on valentines day. Not cool guys, not cool at all. It’s a well known fact in our household that I do not cook on valentines day nor do I do dishes. After my domestic chores we watched the video we rented and then get ready to go to bed. Then the hubster gives me the card he had bought me that morning. I asked why he waited so long to give it and he replied that it never seemed like the perfect moment. So you wait until midnight? A very disappointing valentines day. His heart just wasn’t in it and it showed. I know he was stressed because Feb 13th was his last day at his job here in Indiana but that’s no reason to flub on valentines day. It really hurt my feelings and frankly it’s a valentines day that we will never get back.
And speaking of the husbands job, he bought his plane ticket today for Maryland. He will be leaving in 2 weeks to start his new job in Maryland while I sit here by myself with a dying dog waiting for someone to buy our house. By the time I get to Maryland his family will have already picked out our new house and decorated it. I really hope we haven’t done the wrong thing by moving back to Maryland. It’s a big concern. His family likes to be deeply rooted in all that the hubster does and it can be over whelming at times. We did talk about this tonight and he agrees that he needs to set boundaries with them. Don’t get me wrong, I love his family, I truly do. But when you’ve lived 700 miles away for the last fourteen years, it’s going to be hard to share the same sandbox if you know what I mean. So part of me is happy to be here while he goes through the overwhelming attack of family love when he first moves back to Maryland, while another part of me is quite sad to not be a part of that. Mixed feelings. That’s why they have Xanax though, right?!