To my Valentimes

This is the first valentine’s day in many years that I have not been involved with a production of The Vagina Monologues.  It has, in fact, sort of come to define this day for me, which when I think about it is actually pretty awesome.  This day really isn’t about significant others to me.  Yeah, it’d be nice, whatever.  But not just because of February 14.  Just having one in general.  Or not.  I don’t really mind either way.  But the point is that valentines day to me immediately conjurs thoughts of women.  Former prostitutes who have reclaimed their lives and bought houses.  Survivors of rape and violence.  Teenaged girls who are learning that they don’t have to sit meekly in the corner and wait to be asked.  Women who, in their 70s, realize that it’s not too late.  For whatever.  This gettin’ a little too india.arie for you?  Sorry.  And by “sorry” I mean “good.”  I’m just saying.  You wanna love something?  Love that you’re not homeless.  Love that you have family, even if they kind of suck.  Love that you have any friends at all who give two tin shites about you (because y’all?  I know people who kinda don’t.)  Love yourself.  Unless you’re like a murderer or something.  Then I see how that might be kinda hard.  If you’re not a stone cold killer though?  DO IT.

I bought some Hello Kitty valentines and filled them out and put them with the chocolate I brought to work out on the food table.  Here are the recipients:

Anyone who’s ever met a deadline.
Baby Jesus.
Baby Buddha.
Baby Mohammed.
The Royal Cup guy.  Please bring better coffee.
The old printer.  I miss you.
People who bring food.
Debbie.  I forgive you for putting that hideous picture of me in Grapevine (the company newsletter).  But never do it again.
The white board.  I miss you.  (they be takin’ my white board!)
Vicki’s cheeseball.
80s music.
Girl Scout cookies.

If you do not see yourself reflected in this list, then better luck next year.  Perhaps you could try making my life easier in some capacity.  Or sending me a cheeseball.  Good luck, though, because Vicki’s is Serious, yo.

Happy V-Day!