Oh my god oh my god oh my god! So, there I was sitting at the bar with Tots for a little midweek toast to, well, the week being half over. I’d been rambling on and on about Colby and bikinis and squish-faced dogs for about half an hour, when, suddenly I notice that Tots hasn’t touched her pinot. “You’re not drinking,” I say. Even before she answers, I just know. It might have something to do with the fact that she’s just pulled a bag of crackers out of her bag and is chowing them down like Pekinese chows bacon (my aunt had made me promise no table scraps, but they were just so cute, and it’s not like they’ll tattle on me…). Anyway, it’s true! Perhaps the chemise I gave her for Christmas set the wheels in motion. I do hope it’s a girl. I can already see her on the beach in her Baby Ziggy Katie bikini. How cute is that?

As it turned out, my weekend at Aunt Dorothea’s turned out better than expected. In fact, I had an excellent time. Two full days and nights doing whatever I felt like doing…watching makeover shows, eating ice cream out of the carton, and, perhaps best of all, staying in my Prima Ballerina PJ set the ENTIRE time (well, not exactly…I have two sets, one in chocolate/sorbet pink, the other in sorbet pink/taupe). Even the Pekinese were more pleasant than I’d remembered. In fact, they proved to be excellent foot warmers when placed correctly at the end of the bed.

So, I returned rested and happy knowing that I can be quite content all by myself. The only slight, nagging question at the back of my mind is this: Is it possible to own too many bikinis? Because I did a LITTLE shopping while away, and the Pop Flower Isabella suit is on its way, as is the Walk the Line Fabienne set. I guess I’ll just have to make sure I have somewhere to wear all these little number in the coming months…

Still life with Pekinese. That’s what I’ve got to look forward to at the end of this week. While I had hoped to turn my dog-sitting gig into a romantic weekend away, it is not to be. Turns out busy season really is, well, busy. And from here to eternity—or, until April 15, to be more precise—Colby will be working weekends. So this weekend, it’ll be just me and the dogs. And about 2,000 beady eyes staring down at me from Aunt Dorothea’s glass hummingbird collection.

Won’t I be tortured the entire time, you ask, by visions of the Siren Sophia sinking her hooks into my sweetheart while they work side by side into the wee hours of the weekend? Nah. I’ll be too busy daydreaming about the long weekend Colby and I have planned. Departing April 16 for four glorious days of sun-‘n-sand-‘n-surf. And whatnot.

The idea had me a little nervous at first. I mean, who wants to go bathing suit shopping so soon after dating a professional chef? Then I remembered: Eberjey’s got suits! No dressing room with the horrible lighting and 3-way mirror for me! I chose the Caliente Rebecca bikini because it looked so flattering and fun. And the Lulu tunic to toss on over it.

A little self-tanner and I’ll be ready to go!

Now I just have to make it through this weekend in the cold, cold country. With no one to keep me warm except those jumpy balls of fluff who bark at every sound and somehow always end up on my pillow in the middle of the night. (Did I mention they snore?) Ah, well. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder…

Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose…

Someone clever said that. And while I don’t really know what it means, it’s been running through my head since Sunday. The Big Day. Tots was right—the entire holiday is one big cliché, and this year, I loved every silly moment of it. My Valentine arrived armed with roses in varying shades of pink and red, a big box of chocolates, a frilly card, and a really cute and sort-of-embarrassed grin. “I know, kind of cliché, but I couldn’t help it,” he said.

“You read my mind!” I said, indicating my red ensemble and the bottle of champagne I had chilling in vintage ice bucket that’s been waiting for use since I found it at my favorite flea market six, yes SIX, summers ago. It might interest you to know that we DID not do the clichéd, prix-fixe dinner featuring oysters and flourless chocolate cake at a local romantic hotspot. I felt we had to draw the line somewhere and I can’t even tell you how happy Colby looked when I told him I’d ordered a pizza that would be arriving shortly. I’ll leave the rest of my little tale to your imagination, but I will tell you this—there’s no meal more perfect for Valentine’s Day than pizza, chocolates and a bit of bubbly.

My apartment still smells of roses. A perfect pink bloom is safely pressed inside my newish copy of “How to Cook Everything.” (I know how to cook nothing.) And my Lady Godiva Robe, in the most beautifully named shade of Rosewater, is speeding towards me as I type. I may stop on my way home for some rose-scented bodywash…why not let the feeling linger? After all, as they say, Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose!

I’m ALIVE!  Not only did I get through the presentation without a hitch, (well, except for having two of my charts completely backwards, but no one noticed), my boss’s boss said “nice job” and asked me to repeat the presentation at the company-wide meeting next month! Which is a good thing, even if I’d rather be hung by my freshly-painted Red-Hot-to-Trot toenails over a flaming pit of angry bears. At least now I can shift my focus back to my love-life and Valentine’s Day preparations. Work-shmirk.

Of course, the best way to truly prepare for Valentine’s Day is to have your best friend Tots over to review every single piece of clothing you own, so that’s just what I did.

“You’ve got to wear red,” she said, “that’s a given.”

“Of course,” I said, indicating my newly arrived, most decidedly and devilishly red Colette bralet and boythong set.

Tots approved, but said that I had to wear red over my underpinnings as well. I thought that might be a little too cliché, but she insisted. “The whole holiday is one big cliché! That’s the fun of it! The candy, the flowers, the candlelight dinner. You want to look like the personification of Valentine’s Day itself!”

“I do?” I asked?

“You do.” She confirmed. And suddenly, I agreed. After all, Tots has been married for two whole years, so she obviously knew something about finding and keeping Mr. Right. Plus, I couldn’t help but think Sophia would look all washed out in red. While I, on the other hand, would look like, well, just like Tots said—the personification of Valentine’s Day itself!

Incredibly busy week ahead. Presenting the results of my department’s last three major projects to my boss, my boss’s boss, and my boss’s boss’s boss at the executive meeting on Wednesday. More importantly, getting a facial on Tuesday, a mani/pedi on Thursday, and a blowout on Saturday morning. Ok, my nonchalant attitude towards my pending presentation is perhaps a tad exaggerated. In fact, it’s all an act. I haven’t slept soundly in three days and I get nauseous every time I review my notes. Which I do every fifteen minutes. But, I’ll be fine…just fine…everything’s fine. And it will NOT be a complete disaster and I will NOT get fired and Colby and Sophia will not laugh and point at me as I’m escorted out of the building by security.

Seriously, what kind of company schedules a big, terrifying meeting the week of Valentine’s Day? It’s inhumane, I tell you. Cruel and unusual, to say the least.

Can’t even explain how good it feels to have a Valentine’s date locked in so early in the month. I’m not too proud to admit that it’s been a while since things have played out so nicely. And lest you think I’m one of those girls who just can’t exist without a man, I swear, I’m not! It’s just that on this particular holiday, I do like to have a date. Particularly one I actually like quite a bit. Yes, I did the asking, and Colby did the accepting, and then I did the blushing and he did the smiling, and all was right with the world.

And, to reiterate, I’m feeling good. Great, actually. I do feel I should mention two things I learned today, however. First, I learned about Busy Season. Busy Season is when accountants are working frantically night and day in preparation for April 15^th. In all my romantic plotting over the last few weeks chasing “that-cute-guy-from-accounting,” I’d sort of forgotten what accountants actually do. The second thing I learned today was that not all accountants are cute guys in charcoal suits and well-shined snaffle-bit shoes. Some accountants are slinky, green-eyed redheads in three-inch heels and too-tight, in my opinion, sweaters. Their names are Sophia and the sight of them perched on the corner of your Valentine’s desk is enough to knock the wind right out of you.

But honest, I’m not jealous. Who cares that Colby and Sophia will be locked in the office together until midnight every night for the next two months? Not me. Really. But there’s no harm in investing in a little insurance, right? By which I mean, the Warm at Heart Chemise in hot (and I do mean HOT) pink. Just the thing to be wearing over coffee at my place on Sunday morning. (Psst…looking for something to wear to breakfast yourself? Just order any chemise by Feb. 10 and use discount code SECRET15 to receive 15% off your order! But don’t tell anyone—this offer is only for my inner circle. What are friends for?) Now who’s afraid of the big bad Sophia?

A lot can happen in a week. For example, you can get caught in the elevator at work making out with that cute guy from accounting. (By Olivia, from human resources, no less, but she swore she wouldn’t tell a soul.). You can accidentally agree to spend a weekend at Aunt Dorothea’s house next month taking care of her two angst-ridden Pekingese while she’s snow-shoeing around one of the Great Lakes (what’s so great about it, anyway?) And you can spend one of the most romantic evenings ever dining at a private table in a candlelit wine-cellar, drinking champagne and nibbling amuse bouche with a totally gorgeous chef (I mean, they should give this guy his own cooking show already), only to discover, after the last bit of bittersweet chocolate sauce has been spooned away, that afore mentioned hot chef is not the man of your dreams, love at first sight gift from the New Year’s Eve gods that you’d imagined—he’s just a really good kisser.

To be honest, when I suddenly realized that Steven was about as dull as he was good-looking, it was almost a relief. Because at least now I didn’t have to worry about making up my mind any more. I was never really the Marcia type anyway. I went home feeling all aflutter. Excited about now being able to begin a real relationship—possibly—with Colby. About working up the nerve to ask HIM out for Valentine’s Day. And about the possibility that maybe I’d be able to wrangle myself some company for my weekend with the Pekingese (no sense wasting my Cote d’Azur PJ on a couple of squashed-faced pooches, after all). I don’t think I’d ever looked so forward to a Monday morning before!

Yes, yes, I’m finally one of those girls who can complain that her life is one big whirlwind! And in case you were worrying that I’m just two-timing my way to a big, dramatic, tearful scene, you can relax. Here’s what happened. Colby and I have been having ourselves a fine old time with workweek lunch dates, and we spent the better part of this weekend together as well. Of course, but of course, sometime during all this, I knew that I had to fess up, and quietly explained that I was very casually dating someone. Well, I did a lot of sputtering and er-in and um-ing, about how it was nothing serious, I may have even said something about Marcia, and finally Colby put me out of my misery by saying he totally understood. Just as I started to wonder, why isn’t he jealous?, he said, “Of course I’m completely jealous and plan to win out in the end.” So, naturally, I’m now leaning towards the Colby side of things, and even went ahead and ordered myself a little celebratory post-holiday gift, (the Colette Bralet and Boythong Set, because it’s bound to come in handy).

Not quite ready to be rid of Steven, though. First off, he’s a chef, and, if you’ve never dated a chef, and I never had, let me tell you, it’s worth the effort. I say effort, because they work these very strange hours, and so are usually asleep when you’re awake and vice versa. But I say worth it, because, well, they know all these OTHER chefs, so when they take you dinner, you get special tables and special dishes that aren’t on the menu, and the chef comes out to say hi and everyone around you wonders if you’re some kind of celebrity. And it’s excellent! Also, I didn’t feel quite ready to even mention Colby to Steven, and I think that might be meaningful in some way. I have to figure out what this reluctance means exactly before I do anything drastic. Right?

Those Three Little Words

Those three little words. You know them well. But perhaps never have they been such heaven to my ears. “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!” I admit I was a little confused at first. I’d just told Tatiana, BFF extraordinaire (BFFE, if you will), about the past week. During said week I’d had dinner twice and lunch thrice with Colby, plus dinner and a movie with Steven (the Midnight Kisser). Anyway, when I wound up my tale of woe with, “I feel so guilty, but I really can’t decide,” and she proclaimed “Marcia, Marcia Marcia!”, I thought maybe the half-a-mimosa had gone to her head.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Look to Marcia,” Tatiana said. “She dated a different boy every day of the week, and did she beat herself up about it?” Not usually, I thought. “In fact,” she went on, “it was perfectly acceptable, and going steady was something that required your parents’ permission.” I sipped my own mimosa. I wasn’t sure exactly where Tots was going with this, but I was feeling better already. “What I’m saying,” she finally explained, “Is that maybe you just aren’t ready to go steady. That’s no crime, is it?”

“No,” I agreed, “but what do I say?”

“Well, that could be a problem,” Tots admitted. She paused, then suggested I avoid lying, but simply keep mum unless asked a direct question. And by then, I’d probably have made up my mind.

“I feel a hundred times less guilty,” I said.

“That’s what girls’ brunch is for,” Tots said. “And I’m not just telling you what you want to hear because Brian loved that Christmas present so much.”

I smiled. Both Tots and her hubby had thanked me profusely for that Hard Candy chemise. Apparently it had been just the thing for lounging around the hotel room on their winter get-away. Ah well, so what if it had influenced her advice just a little? I raised my glass. “To Marcia!”

“To Marcia!” Tots agreed.