  Valentine's day is a day to sit back and remember the matyred priest who died because he performed marriages even after the decree was issued that young men shouldn't be married or ponder the life of the jailed criminal who wrote letters to the jailor's daughter. Death and crime somehow morphed into a holiday for love. Ironically, I see the connection. How many people have killed in the name of love? Stolen in the name of love? Cheated in the name of love? And how many of them have been men?
I bought my hubby a nice Elvis cake and some Drakkar and a huge Hershey's kiss, along with a pair of "Hugs & Kisses" stuffed bears. Hubby made dinner for me and he moved all of the junk that has been cluttering our spare rooms out and Goodwill is going to pick it up. I finally have a room of my own instead of a closet. It's nice and warm and relaxing. Unfortunately, I have to share it with visitors, but we don't get many visitors and I'm bugging Blog Boy to make the trip. Will he or Won't he? Speaking of will he or won't he...make-up or break-up...Ken and Barbie have called it quits.
Good thing, too, he's been doing Skipper for ages. It's about time she took her house and split with a hunk of a surfer. Also, Cathy and Irving have decided to get married. Who's next? Will Carrie fall in love with Paris and Alex or will Big rescue her and bring her back to her senses and her true love, New York? 
