valentine

Er, Valentine's Day?

Did I get a memo for that?

It wasn't until I'd fully recovered from the jetlag and then some that I realized that my calendar was set to January, and not February. "There's some sort of holiday coming up, isn't there?" I speculated in a parking lot to the Guy, puzzled. "Something on the 25th."

"The 14th," the Guy said patiently as we plodded to the store. "It's on the 14th."

"What holiday is--oh," I said, as Safeway opened its doors for me, disgorging a panoramic view of fat red helium balloon hearts and round-eyed, round-bellied teddy bears in pastel hues. "Valentine's Day. On the 25th."

"Valentine's Day is on the 14th."

I stared blankly after the Guy while he went to get a grocery cart. "No it's not. All holidays are on the 25th."

. . . which is why I didn't realize that it was Valentine's Day today. It was only a few days ago that I finally registered the fact that my calendar was still turned to January, which had been confusing me on astronomical timelines, not to mention skewing my future planning. "I guess Thida's getting married on Wednesday," I told the Guy at one point, puzzled. "What an odd day to pick."

Turning the calendar brought all sorts of things into perspective for me. Thida was getting married on a Saturday, the new moon was yesterday, and Valentine's Day was, yes, today. Which just brings me back to the fact that I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day, despite the fact that I'd just had a conversation about it with the Guy the night before.

At the grocery store, normally populated by women and babies and the occasional man, I discovered that several generations worth of males had moved in to take ownership, all bearing bouquets of flowers and competing in front of the candy and card displays. I paused in front of the same display with vague, indecisive thoughts; they watched me like a hawk, assuming my preferences as proxies for their girlfriends' (or wives') tastes. Every time I picked up a card and put it down again, a stealthy male hand would appear out of nowhere to steal it away.

It's always nice to know that I'm not alone in the world.

One of the side effects of having turned the calendar is that a sudden onrush of social obligations suddenly overpowered me. Most important among them, or at least most immediate, was a luncheon today with some of my old coworkers from Excite@Home. Tomorrow is the last day for the Manager, who leaves Excite without any visible injuries to either her feelings or the old cynicism.

"Good," said College Boy, when news of the get-together reached him. "I can tell you all my news."

The last time College Boy had told us all his news, it was to reveal that he'd agreed to take a five year stint with the Army. When I'd told my coworkers all about the Sims based on them, he was delighted to find out that his had gone into a military career track. "I've always wanted to be in the military," he confessed. "A Green Beret..."

"So what's your big news?" we demanded, when we were all gathered.

"Are you still going into the Army?" I wanted to know.

He looked slightly embarrassed. "I'm going to be a satellite communications. One year, and I'm training in Atlanta--"

"That's good!" we congratulated him. He comes from Atlanta; his parents are there.

"--and I got married."

There was dead silence for a minute.

"What?"

And this was the point where he became quite agitated. "Register," he explained in fits and starts, "Redwood City, and my father--" Also, I think he said the word "Vegas."

"Congratulations!" we enthused at last, when he was finished explaining, heated and flushed. "That's great! She's nice! So, do your parents know?"