Valentines Day. A day of love. A day of red and pink and hearts and teddy bears and candy.

I am not a fan.

I’m sure some of my feelings go back to elementary school and middle school when I was, ahem, less than popular. The school had a little activity where you could buy a carnation for a dollar and on Valentines Day it would be laying  on the desk of the recipient during home room.

Yeah. I had none of that. I may be a bit bitter.

From high school until the present I have pretty much had a significant other every.single.Valentines Day.

It really hasn’t improved my view of it. At all.

Jim and I came to a compromise. Both of our birthdays are in March and our wedding anniversary is in April…I’m sorry but I am just not creative enough to come up with gifts for all those holidays that close together. So we only do homemade stuff for our Valentines. I pull out the trusty scrap booking box (Don’t tell UndomesticDiva) and get to work. I spend hours making it just right.

Then he comes home with something he threw together in 10 min and somehow it is COOLER than mine.

I hate artistic types, and I hate Valentines. I am a Valentines Day Scrooge. Ba Humbug.

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