Terribly upset

Straits Times surfing in the cluster room...xian...

From The Straits Times:

Forget V Day, how about E Day?

I used to yearn for Valentine's Day and grand romantic gestures. Now, I treasure the little things in Every Day that convey love

Tee Hun Ching

I WAS 18 when I was treated to my first 'proper' Valentine's Day date. You know, the sort that comes with the obligatory car pick-up, the standard floral bouquet and a dinner reservation at a softly-lit restaurant in town.

The stuff that young girls' dream dates are made of, basically.

I forget what I wore or the name of the now-defunct eatery. But I can still recall how the tables, each sporting a flickering candle and a stalk of red rose, were packed so tightly together that we could literally rub shoulders with the couples to our left and right.

We hardly spoke, for fear that our neighbours would snigger at our private jokes.

The food, presumably churned out with assembly line efficiency to feed the amorous throngs, was cold.

And when the bill came, my NSman date blanched, but swiftly handed over two $50 bills.

'Isn't the set dinner here $20 each?' we whispered, shocked, as his hard-earned pay disappeared with the waiter. The night that started out pregnant with promise fizzled out quickly.

That was my first reality check on the giant commercial conspiracy otherwise known as Valentine's Day, when all things that help to fan the flames of love burn a larger-than-usual hole in your pocket.

That was also the last time I welcomed bouquets and dinner invitations for Feb 14.

It wasn't just the sheer waste of money that pained me. It was also the realisation that the day would never live up to its promise.

By expecting to be swept off your feet on this day of orchestrated love, you would already have eliminated a vital ingredient for romance - spontaneity.

When I was younger, I thought love, or what slippery grasp I had of the concept, was best expressed in grand, showy gestures that told the whole world how desirable I was.

In secondary school, I fantasised about getting V Day song dedications on the radio from secret admirers.

In junior college, I would scan a two-page affair crammed with love messages that the student council culled from love-sick peers, half-hoping to see one dedicated to me.

I imagined my friends teasing me about it as I squirmed outwardly but cheered inwardly - a mental picture that never translated into reality.

The candlelight dinner was as close to a Valentine's Day ego trip as I ever got.

After that fell flat, I sniffed at the crass money-spinner disguised as a rose-covered love fest and began to value intangibles like creativity instead.

An artistic ex left me wordless with a classy black scrapbook he made that showcased evidence of our time together: ticket stubs of the first movie we caught together, a paper napkin speckled with his half-baked love poems scribbled playfully as we killed time in a fast food outlet.

I found it touching that events I dismissed as mundane mattered enough for him to preserve memories of them, simply because I was a part of those moments.

Till today, this remains the best Valentine's Day surprise I ever had.

Now, married and much older, I subscribe to the slogan of the Romancing Singapore campaign first launched in 2003. Love, I realise, really is in the little things, best exemplified in everyday life.

I smile when I see a new toothbrush sitting in the tumbler that used to hold my sad, old one with its cobalt blue bristles faded to the colour of the sky and spread out like a starburst.

If he's sensitive enough to spot such small needs, I figure he will never miss the big ones.

I luxuriate in the unspoken arrangement where I simply sit pretty and wait for my food while he navigates the sweaty crowds whenever we step into a hawker centre.

He never grumbles about how it should be my turn, for he doesn't keep count of who does more.

I'm touched when he makes an effort to dress up for outrageous theme parties thrown by my friends, even though I know he would very much prefer to curl up with a book at home.

I'm grateful when he automatically reaches out to massage the small of my back when I get home after a long day to relieve my chronic back ache.

I'm ashamed when I snap at him, accusing him of 'always doing this' after he forgets to bring in the laundry twice in a row, only to hear him say gently: 'Not always lah.'

Anyone else would have blasted my inability to count, for by what stretch of imagination could 'twice' be equated with 'always'? But he rarely loses his cool and inspires me to follow suit, although I must admit this is an uphill task for me.

I no longer scoff at Valentine's Day, for who says it always has to be celebrated in style?

To those who take their partners for granted, it is a gentle reminder that for once in 365 days, they should snap out of their selfish reverie.

To those who mark each day with their loved ones as Feb 14, this is yet another excuse to count their blessings.

Given the demands of work, the best present my husband and I can give each other these days is time - time to enjoy idle chatter, time to soak in the sea view from our apartment, time to just be alone. We plan to get home before 8pm today, share a takeout dinner in the balcony and maybe take a stroll along the beach if there's time after doing the laundry.

Nothing fanciful, but everything meaningful.

What are your plans for today?

Now if only every girl realised this...hahaha

But honestly, which girl wouldn't like flowers to be given to her? Even if she doesn't expect it, wouldn't it still give her some joy to actually receive flowers on that day? *ponders* She would know that its expensive, but the guy is still willing to buy for her (or perhaps some other gift other than flowers) and wouldn't that actually make her more happy? So conclusion? Girls who do not expect anything actually deserve flowers more than those who actually EXPECT it. At least I think so anyway...

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I couldn't fall asleep last night. I miss my laptop :( I really hope its at IBM already, and not wrongly delivered to some dirty guys' hands or hiding somewhere in the DHL depot :(