Due to last weekend's Sydney trip, covering state parliament for work, and rehearsals for He Died with a Felafel in His Hand, I completely missed Valentine's Day.
The Wah surprised me at midnight Friday by presenting me with a tiny glass-blown giraffe that he'd sneakily picked up at Taronga Zoo (he'd "forgotten" his mobile phone in the gift shop, but it was all a ruse! A ruse!). I adore giraffes, and it was a beautiful little gift. But I had zilch for him. Zip. Nada. Three parts of sweet eff ayy.
The thing is, I'm really not fussed by Valentine's Day. I don't expect masses of roses, or chocolates, or weekends away, or dinners for two at some overpriced, overblown restaurant where you're expected to tip, even though this is Australia and goddammit I'm cheap and I don't want to.
Now I could be considered unusual. I like to think it makes me THE MOST AWESOME GIRLFRIEND EVER, but you'd need to double check that with The Wah.
Speaking of said significant other, he had other plans for Valentine's Day. Plans that involved a lot of physical exertions.
I was not involved in these plans.
No, The Wah decided to go walking. For eight hours.
Why, you ask? And where did he end up? You can find the answers to these questions - and many more - over at his blog. It's a most interesting read.
