My one perfect Valentine's Day

I haven't spent a whole lot of time talking about my past. About how I was engaged once to a man 14 years my senior (JG) or my one perfect relationship that was a victim to bad timing (CH). So today I am going to talk about my one perfect Valentine's Day. Every Valentine's Day I get my hopes high thinking that this will be the one and I am always disappointed in the lack of romance, except for one day.

Valentine's fell on a Saturday that year and both JG and I had to work until five. (Backstory: We worked for the same retail company, he on a store level and me at corporate.) He left before I woke up and left me a little note on the bathroom mirror wishing me a happy day. I went to work as usual and about an hour after I got there here comes JG with a bunch of balloons, a dozen roses, a teddy bear, and a box of chocolates. I was ecstatic! Only a woman knows how special it is to get flowers at work and have all the girls a tiny bit jealous of you, so not only was I getting flowers at work but he was bringing them himself! None of the other girls got flowers that day, but I did share my chocolates. ;)

I got home from work that day and found another dozen roses on our kitchen counter and a card expressing his love for me. I had never felt so special or so loved EVER. I had no idea at that time that a guy could treat me so well. I had no idea that I even deserved such treatment. I knew that we were going out to dinner so I got ready for the night. I took a long time with my hair and makeup and wore his favorite little black dress. He came home and I gave him a card from me and the computer game he had been drooling over for weeks.

We went downtown and had dinner at the Broker. For those of you not in Denver, the Broker restaurant is in an old bank. You walk through the old vault door and sit in what used to be the private booths people would use to deal with their safety deposit boxes. It is a very romantic, very expensive place to eat. After dinner he took me on a horse and carriage ride through downtown. I was so happy and I didn't want the night to end. I spent the ride home snuggled up next to him, holding his hand, my heart so full of love I thought it might burst. Little did I know the night was far from over.

We got home and he asked me to wait in the living room for him. About fifteen minutes later he came and got me. He asked me to close my eyes and take his hand. He led me into the bathroom where he had a candle-lit bubble bath waiting for me. He had a path of rose petals that led from the bath into our bedroom and more rose petals surrounding the tub. We took a bath together and just held each other and kissed until the water was cold. He dried me off and took my hand, walked me down that path of roses and into our room. More candles, more rose petals on the bed, and a box for me. I opened the box and inside was a beautiful silk nightie. We made love and fell asleep in each other's arms. I was content for the first time in my life and I knew what it felt like to be loved, to be respected, to be cherished, and to belong to someone completely.

Even though things between JG and I would take a horrible turn (more on that another time) for that one day I felt like the luckiest woman in the world. That boys is what women truly want for Valentine's Day. It's not the flowers or the candy that make us feel special, it's you. That day wasn't about the presents to me as much as was about the time he spent trying to make me feel special. He could have brought me a single daisy and I would have been happy with that because I knew he was thinking about me. It's all about making the effort to make a person feel special and listening to what their heart says. He knew that I had never been romanced and he wanted to show me what that was like. I am grateful to JG for a lot of things and that day is definitely one of them.

I'm not a player, I just crush a lot.

I'm not actively seeking someone new at the moment. Don't get me wrong, I do want a someone special in my life again. I miss having someone to come home to and share my day with. However, I have been enjoying having the whole bed to myself and control of the remote. My heart is still healing from CB and I am discovering a whole new me that I didn't know existed before. I am actually having fun being single and exploring who I am and what I want. With that said however, I have a couple of crushes going on...

There is my friend crush. I have known this guy for awhile now and we are pretty good friends. We talk a couple times a week and see him often. He knows all my deep, dark secrets and still thinks I'm fabulous. He is everything I could want from a man and more. I truly like him a lot. The problem is that I don't think he sees me in a romantic way. We flirt and play around, but when it comes down to it he could ask me out and never has. He is busy being a player right now and that's ok. He needs a little fun after his last few relationships. I hate to say anything to him about how I feel because I value our friendship too much to ruin it. So I hang out, smile while he talks about his latest female escapade, and wish it were me he was into.

There is my hot Latin crush. I have this thing for cute Latino boys. My middle school crush was on a boy named Angel and I wanted him desperately. We didn't have any classes together, but that didn't stop me from smiling at him in the halls. I never got my Angel, but I got Angel's cousin Rico. Ahhh Rico. He was all passion and no substance. That crazy boy was ready to move 2000 miles to be with me. He was a fun little fling that ended when I found out about his extreme substance abuse problem. I have been going out every weekend and meeting all kinds of new people. One is this uber-hot Latino boy that just makes my mouth water. He's a little bit punk, a little bit hip hop, and a whole lotta eye y eye. He flirts outragously with me and I get twitterpated as hell. This one has potential.

And finally there is my acquaintance crush. I have known this guy for a few months and we hang out with mututal friends occasionally. He always gives me a hug hello and a kiss on the cheek goodbye. I adore the hell out of him but having seen some of the girls that he dates and has been interested in, I'm not his type.

So I just flirt a little, smile, wink, and shake my ass while I walk away...

I don't need no stinkin man....

So Sunday I didn't have practice so I decided to take the opportunity to clean my pig sty of a house since I would finally be home for more then a minute. I wanted to really deep clean each room, move some furniture around, hang some pictures, and just basically get organized. I had finished up the living room and decided to attack the kitchen. I started on one side and began to move small appliances and clean behind them. I get to the corner of my counter where my microwave and toaster are, this counter area meets the stove. I pull out the toaster and see something right next to the stove....it's a mouse's ass. It's a dead mouse's ass. So after the screaming, wiggling, gagging, and just basic freaking out ends I inspect dead mouse's ass further. It doesn't stink and I haven't smelled anything bad so it must not have been there long. At first glance I thought, "What the fuck happened to it's head?" Then I realized that the damn thing was trying to get behind the stove and got stuck and died there. It's head is behind the stove. Now how the hell am I gonna get it out of my house??!!???

I am your typical girl, I don't do bugs, rodents, or reptiles. My dog put a spider in her mouth once and I screamed so bad that Cabana Boy thought terrorists were invading the house. Now this mouse problem is not new. I have been fighting an endless battle with the little fuckers for months. Just when I think they have all been trapped, I see another one. I have seen them in every single room of my house. It is disgusting. Since the traps haven't caught any for weeks I assumed that I finally got them all. WRONG. Now up until this point I have not had to deal with them myself. I would ask CB to take the traps out and throw them away. Which he would do only after taunting me and making fun of me first. Bastard.

So now I find myself in a sticky situation. Do I call one of my many homeboys and risk life long ridicule for making one of them come over to deal with a dead mouse's ass or do I suck it up and do it myself? I call my best friend and her hubby answers. I tell him my predicament and he laughs. Now I know I must do this myself. On go the rubber gloves up to my elbows. I pull my shirt up over my mouth and nose. I break out the tongs. I grab the mouse's tail with the tongs and pull. Nothing. I am going to have to grab it's ass. More freaking out and wriggling ensues. I grab it around the body with the tongs and pull. Gagging commences as it leaves behind some nasty residue and fuzz. Did I mention that there was a turd coming out of it's ass? Well there was. I quickly drop the mouse and the tongs into a ziplock bag and seal them up. I run out into the alley and toss the mouse into the trash. More freaking out and wriggling. I also decide the gloves must be trashed as well. Should I burn these clothes? No, I think they'll be ok since the mouse didn't touch them directly.

I go back in the house feeling quite proud of myself for dealing with such a horrible situation. I think to myself, "I don't need no stinkin man."
Then the realization hits. I don't NEED a man, but I WANT a man. So until that day comes I will be happy in the fact that Tom is moving in and he can deal with dead mouse's asses.