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If nothing else, it is an excuse to eat chocolate for breakfast, drink pink milk and partake in waaay too many cinnamon rolls.

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In related news, Nae and I make adorable babies.

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So, special thanks to Grandma Mary for the adorable outfit for Alice (again; even better than last year!) and to Richard Simmons; with whom I will be seeking counsel to best identify how I can work off all the extra calories from breakfast.

The first Valentine’s Day I really remember, it was all about writing every one of my classmates’ name on a little envelope.  In junior high, it was about getting a chocolate rose from a boy named Larry, and being completely floored.  High school brought the most potent Valentine’s Day memories; I began dating “my first love” fifteen years ago today, who later turned out to be a royal f-ing douchebag, therefore ruining the rest of my February 14ths in high school.  Then Nathan came along, and in college, took me to the most romantical spot, like, ever… Taco Bell.  He is a natural romantic.  That is true chivalry, right there – treating a girl to flatulence wrapped in a pasty flour tortilla.

Now, it is mostly about paper hearts, balloons and pink milk.  I have effectively come full circle.  And I LOVE it.

But mostly, Nathan – you’re the man, dude.  I’m not sure how on earth we are still together, after that TBell debacle.  But I’m glad that I stuck around.  Because that year where you built me a “fire” in our first apartment; the one made out of a Swiffer handle, red and yellow cellophane and a box fan – that was the BEST.  After all this time, you are still. my. favorite.

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