Valentine's Day 2009

Valentine's Day has always been a day spent with my best friends. There's usually a fantastic meal+vino involved, consumed in the dark corner of a favourite restaurant (away from the gooey-oozy couples, bien sur). Much laughter. More crude talk than I'm willing to admit to.

A good time is generally had by all, you know.

I don't give the chocolate hearts and flower bouquets too lingering a thought. Although it would be nice to receive some, I'm not going to throw myself into a pit of despair if I don't receive any.

Except yesterday, I got a very sweet Valentine from a total stranger on the 80 bus.

I was listening to some Basia Bulat when the young, clean-cut Indian man sharing the two-seater with me suddenly held out a blue gumball before my face. I watched his lips form the question: "Sweet?"

Bewildered, I slid off my earphones and said, "A sweet? Oh, no thank you, I'm already chewing gum."

Turns out he's only been in Canada for two months, loves our winter, is studying ESL at McGill and hopes to make movies one day. He also has a sweet tooth and carries a pocket full of gum balls to feed his habit. Because my mother taught me well as a child, I don't accept anything edible from strangers, but he was so earnest in his desire to practice speaking English that I did not refuse when he insisted that I take a gumball - "No, two gumballs!" - for later.

So you'll understand if I say that I don't feel as if I missed out by not having a boyfriend on Valentine's Day. I had a great yoga practice, good chats with people who are important to me, a surprise gift from a stranger on the bus, a sumptuous dinner with those I love most, and ice cream for dessert.

I'm feeling pretty loved, thanks.