Oh no, I am not going there. But it is almost V-Day, so get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about stationery.
I love, love, LOVE stationery. I love sending cards to my favorite people on silly holidays and even just because.
May I present my Valentine’s cards 2010, courtesy of Old Navy.

Confession: I actually kind of love Valentine’s Day, too. Sure, it’s a little artificial and retail-inspired as far as holidays go (but aren’t they all, if you are really honest?) Since there’s nothing worse than feeling left out and unloved on a day to celebrate love, we celebrate it, goshdarnit, and let me tell you why.
A million years ago, when we both went to a different universities than our alma mater (big mistake, but that’s another story), Mr. and I were SEVEN hours apart. SEVEN. The first few months of freshman year we took it as it came, not entirely sure whatsoever where our relationship was headed, if it was even headed anywhere at all. Because oh, you know, SEVEN HOURS. But Thanksgiving 2005 came and went, and as I drove away after yet another tearful goodbye in his parents’ driveway, my phone rang that familiar ring tone (All For You, Sister Hazel). My boyfriend calling. Me: “Hello? I just left two minutes ago. What’s up?” Him, “I love you.” And there you have it. It was love, for the first time.
Flash forward three-ish months to Valentine’s Day. By then, we’d both applied to transfer from our freshman year schools to the university that would eventually become our alma mater. We knew we wanted to see where our relationship could go, not to mention that I was absolutely miserable at freshman school and needed to get the heck out of there.
So anyway. Valentine’s Day. I was lonely and miserable.
Did I mention that I was miserable? And lonely?
Practically every other girl on my floor in the dorm was in a long-distance relationship and beginning around 10 a.m., teddy bears, flowers, balloons and candy galore began being delivered from thoughtful far-away boyfriends. Girls up and down my hall would squeal with delight as they got a notice of a package for them held at the mail desk in the basement and would come back 10 minutes later with an armful of Valentine’s Day goodness. Before I tell you how pathetic I was, you should know that my wonderful boyfriend had told me he had sent me something, so I was excited for (what I thought was) good reason. Now, I lived on the sixth floor of the dorm. It was a long, sketchy elevator ride to the basement. Which I then made every single hour to check my mailbox for a package notice or even the regular mail. Which never did arrive, or at least nothing for me arrived, and I admitted defeat at about 10:05 pm.
Well, then a certain boyfriend received a very tearful phone call. My package was never delivered.
Ummm. Then it got awkward. He didn’t send a package. No flowers, no teddy bear, no candy or balloons. He just sent a Valentine’s Day card. And he didn’t send it until February 13. So I got nothing. Nothing.
Well, I felt like a big, miserable, lonely pile of poo.
In his defense, after that teary call, he wrote me the one and only poem he’s ever written, and I printed it out and hung it on the wall next to my bed. Not as good as flowers, but flowers wouldn’t have kept as well in my scrapbook.
Anyway. THAT is why we celebrate Valentine’s Day. Because the year we didn’t celebrate it completely sucked.
Even Mr. Wonderfuls occasionally drop the ball. Don’t worry, he’s forgiven : )
Just six days til Valentine’s Day!
B