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Our Valentine’s Days

February 14, 2012

Somehow our Valentine’s days are always associated with snow storms. From the day that I moved to the new little city in America, people kept telling me how cold this city was. Like the snow will reach my chest and I have to struggle out with a shovel and crawl to school, all scary stories. But the first winter it ends up to be a warm winter, and the next one a warmer one.. anyway, we did have some snow storms to justify the locals’ claim, and they all somehow happened on valentine’s days.

Our first Valentine’s day went like this. It was only a few weeks after we started dating, so we both were excited. My husband decided to take me out to the most fancy restaurant for dinner, a French one, and me, as a Chinese girl relocated to America who had no previous experience with fancy food(we did not quite characterize the fancy food with the time we spent in the restaurant, for example, the time function of Chinese people spent in the restaurant is a function of how complicate the food is, and how many new people to the group there are, since if there were new member, everybody else would have to drink with them, which takes a lot of time.), decided to wear a long sleeve overlarge T-shirt that worts about 10 yuan, which is less than 2 bucks (which instead of shrinking after washed, extended to be a dress I that cover half my thighs)with a long red coat (very traditionally Chinese, and a communist way). Of course I regretted once I stepped into the restaurant and saw how sharp my husband looked in his button down shirt. But we still stared at each other in the eyes for all the time and kept talking without really knowing what we were talking about. (especially me, a favorite quote of me is that I would be shaking my husband’s arms and yelling excitedly, listen to me, listen to me, and then asked myself, “what am I talking about?”). The food is great, but I melted in his eyes that are so deep that drowned me.

Did I mention there was a snow storm? So after that he decided to drive me home, like what a knight or a royal prince would do to a true highborn lady, that was not very smart… The level of the city we were living in was not very even, especially when measured using how much the car can accelerate to go down town without pressing the gas pedal. And of course, we did not have snow tires. On the steepest road ever in our city, my husband was holding the wheel, as concentrated as he could be, although the road was so covered with snow that I did not even know what the wheel was doing. We were in the car super scared, it was like on a sled slipping down a slope, except I knew if I fell somehow on the sled, I might roll myself in a snowball, but that much snow will bound to stop me at some point, versus in the car that is completely out of control, could knock to either side of road, which consists of other cars. There was nothing much we could do, except sliding as slow as we can and as straight as we can to something flat down there. It was amazing that we eventually came through that process unscathed, and walked against all the storm back to the top of the slope, where his car was… But I still loved it, I held his hand, and felt I was holding the whole world.

So it does not matter what clothes to wear, what weather we have, what it matters, is to be together with my Valentine.  (Although I still hope I picked something more presentable that day to wear, that event started my enthusiasm of collecting formal dresses….)

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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