love

A strange submission for Photo Friday: Electricity, yes. But the kind of spark that can ignite something that lasts for thirty years, well, what better word than electric?! My parents will mark their 30th wedding anniversary on Wednesday. We celebrated in a big fashion three weeks ago with a surprise party thrown by my brothers, my sister-in-law, my wife and myself. A party that could not be mentioned here because, well, my mom reads my blog (Hi, Mom!). Thirty years is a long time. I did not exist then, and now look how much more awesome everything is because of, you know, me. The Mrs. and I have been together for 10 1/2 years, married for 4 1/2. It feels like forever, though, and I can’t imagine thirty.

Here’s to hoping they will celebrate with a bike ride together. Nothing beats the stress from everything that’s happened in our family in the last three weeks like some nice cycling. My father has some sweet new fenders I get to install for him today at his house. And a rack that I hope fits. My mother’s trike has custom fenders and a huge basket. Can you say PICNIC?

I feel like I should have something more to say about the thirty year mark. But I’m not even that old yet and can’t really understand it. Awe is about all I can muster.

[Larger.]

Happy Valentine’s Day, from a happy little Valentine. I know, tons of people hate this holiday. It’s Hallmark, the Devil, the Man, the Machine, yes. I am sorry. But.
I don’t care.

I love Valentine’s Day.

That’s easy for someone with a soulmate to say.

I know.

I am sorry if I break your heart with my exuberance, I really am. I will give you chocolate and a hug, if you require. French press of coffee and another hug.

We are off tonight (after Mrs. P. gets off work, actually) to what I consider my (maybe not the; I don’t know) most romantic place to eat in North Baltimore, the Papermoon Diner. I went there on my first real Valentine’s Day date when I was a teenager. From there we proceeded on a double-date with my brother to watch A Pyromaniac’s Love Story, a film chocked full of mid-90s optimism and impossible romance. Too bad it’s not on DVD and that I don’t have a VCR. I own a VHS copy, which I should digitally convert and offer the world on my website until the Man shuts me down.

So many acronyms.

The Papermoon does not remind me of a person. No, it’s a feeling. I miss the 90s and our feel-good apathy and when coffee made you almost cool. Now we are all afraid and all over-caffeinated. You can get good coffee at freakin’ McDonalds. Geez. There is nothing special about drinking strong coffee after dinner anymore and knowing what’s in all those fancy drinks.

But I digress. We insisted on a $20 price limit for gifts this year because whenever we decide on no gifts, we both break that rule. Twenty bucks is for sweet presents. Thoughtful things. It was my idea for homemade cards. So I pulled out my watercolors yesterday and painted extensively for the first time in over ten years, decorating the craft paper gift wrap and making a card complete with red ribbon and superglue all over my hands. Mrs. P. made me a giant cookie card. Yum and dang.

I hope I am not the only one to have a nice V-Day.

[Also for Photo Friday: Infinity.]