We generally don't make too much of a fuss on Valentine's Day for a couple of reasons:
1) It comes the day after my birthday (Only 364 days till my next one now! Wheeee!) and Jason typically goes far above and beyond for that.
2) Apparently this is quite a point of contention amongst bloggers judging by a few posts I read yesterday, but I think it's all a bit silly. Don't get me wrong, I know the holiday has a tragically romantic history and I fully support celebrating that, but I think what it's become is such a fiasco. Can't we honor this bit of history without tripling the price of roses and mediocre chocolates dressed in frilly boxes? Not to mention the exorbitant restaurant prices with "Special Valentine's Day Menu's". Pure silliness.
So we usually just get each other a card and a little thoughtful gift and make dinner at home.
We stuck to the small gift rule. I got Jason a Smythson notebook and a John Coltrane/Miles Davis box set and he got me a book on some of Louis Vuitton's classic designs.
BUT. This year, we ventured out. For one reason. One reason only.
Dirty Dancing was playing at the movie theatre. Believe it or not, I had never seen this movie on the big screen, despite coming of age in the heyday of the film. I'm pretty sure I wasn't allowed. Probably because it had the word "Dirty" in it.
But now... Now I'm all growns up and I can see whatever movie I want, whenever I want. Even ones with the word "Dirty" in the title.
Not that you needed any more evidence, but is Jason the greatest or what? He will not only buy me stupidly expensive handhags but he will further support my fetish by buying me books about them and then sit through Dirty Dancing.