There's something about red wine that makes you feel like a jazz singer. I'm sitting here, half a bottle into some delicious Merlot and I can't help but sing and sway to the sounds of Feist.
Yes, indeed, it is Valentines evening. I've never had an issue with Valentine's day, until I moved back to the States. Never have I seen another grossly capitalized non-holiday, save Halloween. Oh, you may argue St. Paddy's, but honestly, that is a holiday that all can enjoy. However, Valentines. Hmm. I remember being in the 9th grade, walking down the halls of the prison in which I spent 7 hours Monday thru Friday with my fellow cell mates whom I never truly got along with, save a few. Where was I? Oh. Countless lockers and giggly girls were found up and down the halls, covered in hearts and sparkles, balloons and red. Why? What was it about this day? To this day, I still don't understand.
Rather than contemplate my loneliness on this night, which I do so well on all other nights, I've embraced the holiday. I go out, and I give in. I buy flowers, ice cream, wine. The cashier gives me a wry smile as I check out with my goods, believing that I have some grandious plans for this night. And, yes, I do. My plans include having flowers by my side to greet me in the morning, drinking all the wine, eating all the ice cream and passing out watching some sort of ridiculousness on television. Or, blogging, half a bottle into my red.
This isn't every night. I don't get to do this every day. This day, this day is special because I get to. Because everyone else is acting like fools, I feel that I get to have a piece of the pie by singing into my phone and pretending for a moment that I am singing away everyone's blues in some slinky jazz club, called my kitchen. Yes, I'm singing off key, but my audience doesn't know that, so shh. And in the morning, I will wake up and wonder why I have a bruise on my hip and why my head hurts so much and why I have The OC theme song stuck in my head.
There's a song that's been in my head and it's been pretty. He's my Brandy Alexander, always gets me into trouble, but that's another matter. Brandy Alexander. Tonight, I'm pretending that Brandy Alexander and I are getting into trouble, singing up a storm in the kitchen and forgetting where the corkscrew went.
I've found that it's okay to feel sexy with a bottle of wine, and no one else around.
Happy Valentine's day.