Cupid's Arrows

I went to Hallmark last week looking for a birthday card and was assaulted by a store covered head to toe in red. This can only mean one of two things, either the store was the unfortunate scene of a brutal massacre, or Valentine's Day is rapidly approaching. Frankly, I'm not crazy about either scenario. To help prepare myself for the season, I thought I would take a trip down memory lane and remember some past V-day experiences.

1996: I was a senior in high school, and had met the man of my dreams at a college orientation weekend only days before. Dreamy guy drove an hour and a half to show up at my door with 13 roses. Instead of being flattered to receive MORE than a dozen roses, I reminded him that 13 was an unlucky number.

1997: Despite my less-than-poetic reaction to his gift the year before, Boyfriend #1 was still around, and I'm sure we did something cheesy and romantic to celebrate the day. I was cheesy and romantic back then.

1998: This marks the beginning of commitment-phobe Becky (Or as a friend liked to call it, "Bec 2000"). After breaking up with Boyfriend #1 soon after New Year's, I was testing the waters with Boyfriend #2: a fellow civil engineer. We celebrated V-day with a weekend trip to St. Louis. The new relationship went into a tailspin when he presented me with a CD that he hoped would make me "remember him while I studied abroad in Australia in the fall." AHHH! Flag on the play. We didn't last through the next week.

1999: A rose arrived at my door from "man of my dreams" No. 2 - my Australian soul mate. The 10,000 or so miles between us proved to be a significant obstacle to dating, but we've been close friends ever since.

2000-2003: I spent the next 4 years in and out of short relationships, but predominantly single. Valentine's Day meant dinner with girlfriends followed by watching cheesy movies like "Sleepless in Seattle."

2004: After running into an old college crush at an Illinois football game in Pasadena, we decided to try a long distance San Fran/LA relationship. Sitting in the Oakland airport waiting for my V-day flight down to LAX, I realized that I really would rather hang out with my friends than spend a romantic weekend with college crush boy. Two months later, I pulled the plug.

2005: I have no recollection of what I did for Valentine's day last year. How sad is that?

There you have it. Given the above, I think the required course of action is clear. We should just pull Valentine's day right off the calendar. Based on my experience, Cupid doesn't have very good aim.

Welcome Home

There's nothing like the turning of a year to make you aware of how quickly and unceasingly time marches on. I have spent well over half this month on the road, between family ski vacations, trips back to CA for work, and whirlwind multi-city tours of wastewater treatment plants (sounds glamourous, I know). I took down my Christmas decorations only days ago, and am amazed that it is almost February.

Given my homesickness for California at the end of last year, spending a week back in the Bay area at the beginning of this month was a real treat and a huge blessing. It was great to see everyone again, to spend time with my old roommie and with my old small group. It was good to be back, but something was different this time. It wasn't home anymore. And I don't mean that in a sad, left out sort of way. It was simply a matter of fact.

As my plane was taxiing to the gate back in Denver at the end of the week, the flight attendant began to wish those continuing on a safe flight. And then she said, "and if Denver is home for you, Welcome Home." I sat there on that plane, looking out the window to the mountains in the distance, and I began to cry. But they weren't tears of sadness - they were tears of joy. Denver IS home. I was glad to be back and I felt a real sense of peace, for the first time in months.

This past fall I spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder, mourning the loss of the comfortable familiarity of California. I was still walking through the motions here in CO, but it wasn't my focus. My focus was on my grief. I think I've finally turned around, and life here suddenly seems alive and full of potential.