– If you think Valentine's Day is corny as sin, you're right. It's sublimely hack shit. Within that, it affords you the opportunity to eat a heart-shaped Reese's peanut butter cup in red lace underwear. To have champagne and toast “to us.” To give head by candlelight. To spend too much time selecting the flowers you want to say it with. Immerse yourself in tropes and treat Valentine's Day like an extreme sport. (Somehow, this is also an attractively easy approach if you often leave things to the last second or don't want to spend a grand at Zales or whatever.)– Since every piece of our days is sort of whirled together indefinitely, it stands to reason that many of us are taking a deconstructed approach to eating: on your feet, one hand on your phone, cobbling together some flailing sweet potato thing accompanied by the last of the Italian sausage or BBQ-style seitan, and maybe some bites of hummus. Fine! All the better for differentiating your Lovers' Repast.
Oh my god.If that's not your style, just tell them what you like about their butt and eyes.– If it normally feels like a chore or a non-starter, diplomatically be Player 2 in their awful favorite video game—yes, the first-person shooter with a dubious relationship to your very seriously held political opinions, Professor Morals!—for an hour or two. Don't say your opinions. Actually try!– Coordinate stick-and-pokes. I recommend that you give and get each other's initials. I once had a great time earning a “B” underneath my bra strap. The letter was for and by my second ex-fiancé, and so bad it looked like a figure 8. I loved it, and now, years after our split, it has become the word “Bitchin’” in the Barbie font. A romantic tattoo throughout its whole life! As I mentioned, it's in an unobtrusive place, which I also think you should consider, love or no love. (He got an “A.” God knows what ever comes of that. Continued peace and a Happy Valentine's Day to everyone with whom I've mushily shared tattoos.)
She's something else—tree surgeon and a ventriloquist, astronaut and private eye. You're always looking for those two things. A newspaperman and a bathing beauty. It's a combination that works for us, ’cause a lot of times, I'm in a stroller waiting to be pushed out into traffic. She's the one that'll do it.