Those who know me know that I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. In fact, I kind of despise it. And it’s not just because I don’t buy in to the carefully orchestrated marketing frenzy of overpriced gifts and experiences leading up to the holiday. It’s because something about glorifying coupledom has always rubbed me the wrong way. Sure, I can acknowledge the value of taking the time to appreciate your significant other, but that should really happen more than once a year, don’t you think? Justin and I have never been one of those couples who only hangs out with other couples. In fact, we have many friendships with individuals who happen to be unattached. And, surprise, they are no less spectacular because they haven’t “found the one”, “met their soulmate”, or “made the perfect match”.
I used to live in Cleveland, and Cleveland in January is what one might call “peak winter”. The cold from the lake was brutal, and working downtown meant being directly subjected to lake effect snow and subzero windchill temperatures. Winters often lasted from November to April. New York City winters are mostly mild by comparison, which is likely the only reason why I would turn to Justin and say, “Let’s go to the Central Park Ice Festival! That sounds like fun!”