Yes, it's really been two years since my last blog post. What's your point? I'll have you know I wasn't twiddling my thumbs. In those two years I started a thriving business, took care of my mother, dealt with a couple of angsty teenagers, and discovered Netflix. So, yeah, I've been kinda busy. Not that I have to justify my blog slacking to you. Instead of being all judge-y, how about you just read this new post and get off my case?
Because we're huge movie buffs, I decided to express my love for my love using the titles of all nine 2017 Best Picture Oscar nominees.
Happy Valentine's Day to my leading man!
You're the Cary Grant to my Deborah Kerr;
The Jimmy Stewart to my Irene Dunne;
The Ryan Gosling/James Garner to my Rachel McAdams/Gena Rowlands;
The Hugh Grant to my ... whoever played his love interest in "Love Actually."
I'm not one to keep my feelings HIDDEN. FIGURES that I would write something witty to tell you how much I adore you, huh? Right now you're probably shaking your head and muttering, "What a show off." I love when you call me that.
From your ARRIVAL on our first (blind) date, I sensed I was meeting someone who would play a significant role in my life. After we kissed goodbye under the MOONLIGHT on our second date, I called my mom to tell her I was going to marry you. Thanks for making my prophecy come true. As you’re well aware by now, I like to be right.
You make me feel valued, beautiful and secure. It’s such a comfort knowing that—no matter what—you support me. You don’t just go to bat for me; you swing for the FENCES. Come HELL OR HIGH WATER, you will make sure I’m happy and fulfilled.
It hasn’t all been rum and roses. (The saying is “wine and roses”, but you know I never touch the stuff. Plus “rum and roses” has a nice ring to it.) I mean, nobody’s perfect. Not even you. There have been times when—if I’d had the means—I might have transported you to WWII-era Okinawa and left your ass at the top of HACKSAW RIDGE without so much as a squirt gun to defend yourself. But despite what you might think, given the aforementioned alarmingly specific death plot, I almost never fantasize about killing you.
Your leading lady