The final countdown to Valentine’s Day has begun! With only 48 hours to go until the day of Hearts, I have my work cut out for me.
I am hosting a writers soiree at Chez Penguins. It’s going to be an evening of reading poetry, singing songs and talking about love.
The greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return.
Do you know the Moulin Rouge quote above? I didn’t know it until last year’s Valentines Day Party I threw. We voted on what movie to watch and “Moulin Rouge” won. The young people were shocked that I had never seen it before, and I was willing to step out of my comfort zone and watch a film made after 1950.
It was a delightful pastiche of olden days and classic story, the best music of the last 20 years and very creative directing. But this year, I’m thinking of something a little quieter… a little deeperv… a little more soulful.
I’ve selected the poets from who’s troves my guests can recite this Sunday:
- May Sarton
- Edna St. Vincent Millay
- Emily Dickinson
- Christina Rosetti
- Elizabeth Bishop
- Virginia Woolf
It might strike you as an unusual list for a couple of reasons.
- This is Valentine’s Day! Isn’t that supposed to be light-hearted?
- Well, yes. There can be chocolates (because we all know that what Forrest Gump said about life being like a box of chocolates, and there will be many of those being passed around my house on Sunday). It is also a day of gravity. We remember how important love it. Important things bear weight.
- “It’s only women,” you might be thinking. “Isn’t Valentine’s day supposed to be about the union of the sexes?”
- Again, I have to say yes: but not unequivocally. Valentine’s day is about romance. Romance appeals to the softness of femininity. I acknowledge the feminine energy in men as well as women, but that doesn’t mean women should receive a heightened consideration on the day of love! Women so often are stretched to there maximum levels of tolerance in a results-oriented society. A society that regards forcefulness as confidence and expects women to be tolerant of catcalls, workdays that they can’t take off just for cramps, and countless other stressors. So for Valentine’s day, let us honor women. By doing so, we will indirectly honor men.
As for the chocolate, there will be plenty, I assure you. I don’t know if I should be eating much of it. I had a crown put in where some old fillings used to live by my fancy Beverly Hills dental office. I know I’m already an old lady, but I want to have my teeth for many years to come! I don’t want to have to get tooth implants for my whole mouth until I’m at least 115 years old. I eat plenty of bacon like Susannah Mushatt Jones, so I intend on sticking around.
If I don’t, who will take care of Clinton and Carter, those precious pussy cats dears?
Either way, this Valentine’s Day Party will be a delight. I’m having it catered with indian food. I’ve chosen what to read:
By Virgina Woolf: “Look here Vita — throw over your man, and we’ll go to Hampton Court and dine on the river together and walk in the garden in the moonlight and come home late and have a bottle of wine and get tipsy, and I’ll tell you all the things I have in my head, millions, myriads — They won’t stir by day, only by dark on the river. Think of that. Throw over your man, I say, and come.”
Beautiful, isn’t it? I love how assertive she is in her desires, and how vulnerable she is at the same time. I have millions in my head, too.