You would probably expect my first Valentine's Day ever with my now-husband to have been an amazing one. I mean, we got married right? This was not the case. (I would like to take this moment and point out that Russ [love you, babe] thinks I always throw him under the bus on my blog. However, I am just retelling stories of what actually happened... so... you be the judge.)
It was my sophomore year in college, Russ and I had only been dating a short time. I was really excited to actually have a date for Valentine's Day. We had an excellent dinner downtown Athens (with several bottles of wine) then headed to our favorite bar to meet up with some friends.
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| Us, shortly after dinner. |
My brother, who attended the same college, was out and about with some friends and decided to swing by and see us. (Yes- my brother is 7 years older than me and was still in school. No- he is not dumb, just crazy and wanted to get like 19 doctorates.) This was his first time meeting Russ.
I could tell that Russ was starting to act pretty intoxicated. Then, after he met my brother and would not keep his hands off of my ass and talking about how hot he thought I was- I knew he was highly intoxicated.
I could tell that Russ was starting to act pretty intoxicated. Then, after he met my brother and would not keep his hands off of my ass and talking about how hot he thought I was- I knew he was highly intoxicated.
I just tried to play it off and hope that my brother was also highly intoxicated and would not notice. (Which he still to this day claims he did not.)
I soon realized that my date was at the point of super drunk and no return. I will spare Russ the agony of reliving the embarrassing details, but trust me when I say: no return. So, I dug his phone out of his pocket and luckily remembered his roommates name.
"Ummm... hi. Is this Russ' roommate? This is Katie. Russ' date? Sorry to bother you on Valentine's Day and all, but Russ needs to go home. Immediately. Any chance you can come pick him up or at least give me your address so I can send him your way in a cab?"
Yes. It was super awkward.
Thank goodness he had an awesome roommate who came to retrieve him. At this point, I realized that I was going to have to help his roommate physically carry him in and put him to bed, so I rode along, while making arrangements to be picked up from their place as quickly as possible.
Thank the heavens, my friends came to rescue me and took me home. I relayed the depressing story, followed by a "yeah, never going to see that guy again."
I had written him off and gone to bed. Worst Valentine's Day ever.
Then, very early (I'm talking like 7:00am, on a weekend, in college, early) the next morning, there was knocking at our door. My roomie answered it, and it was him. The nerve of that guy?! Ruin Valentine's Day and then not even let me sleep in the next morning?! I was pissed. I told her to tell him to go away. Alas, the ass, would not.
She told me she was going back to bed and I had to deal with him, so I let him in to apologize. Which he did. Profusely. He said he did not remember anything, and that never happens to him, and he fears that he was accidentally drugged. I forgive him, on the condition that he never comes over this early ever again. Especially without food.
Fast forward to several years later. We are married at this point and talking with the same friends from that terrible Valentines Day about how it was the only time we had ever "broken up". I mention that I cannot believe he had been drugged and my friends start dying laughing.
Me, confused side head cock. "What is so funny?"
Them, still laughing. "Drugged? We made him chug three long islands!"
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| Basically, what my face looked like. |
What. The. Fuuuuuuuu.....
Russ, looking genuinely shocked, "Huh? So, I kind of was drugged?"
Needless to say- it did not go over well for all boys involved. And, I would like to say to all you males out there- do not give your friends 3 long islands to chug on their Valentine's Day date. It is not a good idea. And, no. No, I should not even have to say that.
Fast forward nine years from our first Valentine's Day disaster date, to what would become one of my best Valentine's Days... when Russ and I apparently had a little too much fun and made a baby. Oopsies! But, best accident ever.
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| The result of a fun Valentine's Day. |
Fast forward one more year to what was really my best Valentine's Day ever- because it was the first one I got to spend with my son; and, when I discovered what this crazy little thing called love is really all about.
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| Thank you, Kayla Morton of Everyday Photography & Designs for capturing this face, February 2013. |
So, my tip to you this Valentine's Day- do not chug 3 long islands after several bottles of wine whilst on your date, only to be sent home alone. Instead, get juuuust drunk enough and go make a baby!*
Love,
Katie (The Cliché Conceiver)
*Please only procreate if you are responsible adult, of a reasonable age, in a relationship and situation where you can safely raise a child.
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