We have been so exhausted this week, and we therefore decided to keep Valentine's Day super low-key.  Joelio took me to our new favorite deli, Dot's Delicatessen, where I had a tasty hot-dog topped with coleslaw and mustard and a Mexican Coca-Cola.  He had brussels sprouts with bacon, and collard greens (incidentally, I just learned that the term is brussels sprouts - huh!).  It was delicious!

Afterward, we went to the store for these.  To be fair, I did try to find a fresh cupcake, but the store was COMPLETELY picked over.  So I opted for these totally disgusting and indulgent hostess cupcakes.   Sometimes I find it disturbing how I crave junk for celebrations, but then I just accept my white trash upbringing and enjoy horrible, deliciously bad food - but only occasionally.  Truth be told, I will probably throw the rest of the box away as I am feeling quite guilty for supporting Hostess.

We then went home and fell asleep watching Star Trek.  We loved it.

Something very annoying has happened to me.  Against my will and the universe's decision to birth me a cynic, I have accidentally begun to like Valentine's Day.  I found myself wandering the grocery store aisles yesterday with a foolish grin on my face because of all the horrific VDay wares.  Perhaps it's my new-found love of all things kitschy, God knows I'd love to blame it on an aesthetic choice.  But no, as I was driving home and thinking about Joel and Teresa and Clara and my friends and family, I teared up with bursts of love as they escaped from my open-wide heart.

And honestly, I think that's what happened.  

My heart has thrown open its doors, removed the dusty sheets from the furnishings, thrown a fresh coat of pain on the walls

 and decided all are welcome. 

And that is the thrilling danger of amour.

Therefore, in honor of kitsch and kiss,

 we celebrated last night with the following:

a moment of quiet relaxation while my red velvet cake baked

Joel frosting the cake while I made fried zucchini and red beans and rice
(while rocking out to Tina Turner, of course)



my sister came home and set up my gift.
heart peeps, a sweet plant, temporary "love" tattoos, cinnamon candles, and flurp
(which is silly putty you use to make fart sounds.  why it made us laugh so hard, i have no idea!)
I was clapping like the Gob chicken-dance.

then it was martini time

and gift time
(I got T a Frankenstein ring and some candies, her fav!)
(Joel got a NASA hat and one of his fav beers!)

and dinner time
and mustache time

and spontaneous dance party time 

(tina turner song seed on pandora is golden!)

temporary tattoo time

then cake time.

and Shaun of the Dead time.

(because they do go so well together).

I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard.

(No wait, it was at the roller rink last week when a 60 year old balding man in a muscle-T figure-skated right in front of me, whilst clapping.  Now that shit was funny.)