Usually on this occasion designed to play on the emotions of the unattached, I spend the day curled up in bed with a pint full of pistachio gelato in one hand and a remote trained on Bridget Jones's Diary in the other. However in the '08, I'm taking a different approach. Maybe it's the arctic thaw of my last love affair gone bad that's finally dissipating ever so slowly, but the premise of facing the post-ides of February without wanting to reaching for sauvignon blanc to soothe a splintered ego counts as progress. So, maybe hope really does spring eternal. If Gary Coleman of all people can get hit with Cupid's arrow in between shifts at the Fox Hills Mall, who am I to write off romance completely?

So rather than pity the lucky lasses who'll be getting crimson bouquets courtesy of FTD and their spines realigned after dark (no, I'm really not bitter. Don't believe me? Okay, maybe just a smidge), I'm in a sentimental state of mind to give props to those couples from then to now who still give me a reason to believe in the power of the L-word.

It's for Claire and Cliff.
Will and Jada.
Denzel and Pauletta.
Forest and Keisha.
Nicole and Boris.
Grant and Tamia.
Angela and Courtney.
Bill and Camille.
Ruby and Ossie.
Betty and Malcolm.
Coretta and Martin.
Barack and Michelle.

Labels: love, relationships, Valentine's Day