Once in love with Amy

Well, my first Valentines Day in New York City is about to sling its arrow of outrageous fortune my way in less than 48 hours. Even when I did have a man in close proximity to my La Perlas, I can't say I ever cared much for the holiday. To begin with, it involves leaving the house in February, which has become even less desirable this winter, as I'm still walking on snow that fell while I was doing my Christmas shopping.  I mean, I think it's snow. Or it's those familiar carcinogenic bus fumes now available in a brand new flavor. And, then there's the overall downgrade in the quality of chocolate making its way into unsuspecting homes across America. Not to mention the ubiquitous red roses--the Barry Manilow of the floral kingdom.

My celebrations of love are usually marked by a martini and an in-market test of whether or not my mascara is truly sweat-proof, said sweat consisting of water and $180 an ounce perfume proven to be worth every penny.  Valentines Day does have something to recommend it, however. It is the best day of the year for being able to openly discern romantics from people I could actually like.

There are three types of heterosexual men riding the subway on February 14th: those carrying gifts--taken; those listening to Coldplay on their iPods--romantics; and those who look up from checking their phones upon hearing me unzip my jacket--possibilities.  

But, I have to say, I'm just not in the mood for some inexplicable reason, possibly having to do with an amazing workload, a broken collarbone, and a really good book. So I've decided to make this Valentines Day about self-love, which has turned this whole holiday around already. I've started with a love letter to myself: a shocking exercise as it made me realize how much of my journal is about what is going wrong, and not about what is going so very right. I had a facial and scheduled it early in the day so I wasn't laying there wondering if the dog was going to pee on my new rug. I ate a burger with caramelized onions and didn't leave off the cheese.

Best of all, it has made me think to count myself among those I love. And that's something worth celebrating, even in the middle of February.