Tiny Dancer and the furry man-whore

For those of you who are long-time readers of this blog, you may remember my post from last year on the subject of Valentine's Day.  If not, or if you are new here, I am attaching the link: Paris - City of Love. Really?  

So, have things improved for Miss K in the romance department?  Well, let me tell you how I spent Valentine's Day this year.  First, I went for dinner with Tiny Dancer - and you know, she's more delightful than a box of puppies and all that, but she's not a hot man.  Nonetheless, we had a lovely evening - I had been detoxing for nine days and wasn't planning to drink, but Tiny Dancer made the excellent argument that a single girl can't possibly be expected to get through V-Day without the benefit of alcohol, and that surely there is some kind of amnesty granted for such an occasion.  Doesn't that make sense to everyone?  Yes, I thought so too.  So we had pre-dinner aperos, a bottle of wine at dinner, champagne with dessert, and a post-dinner nightcap.  Hee!

And then I went stumbling home to my furry little feline man-whore.   Of course, he doesn't just love me, he'll basically fling himself at anyone who walks into the apartment (hence his reputation as a furry man-whore), but it's still nice to come home to.  And this is the snuggliest cat in the world - you can pick him up any old time and he looooves it.  Most cats would claw your face off if you tried that, and granted, he is a cat and therefore unpredictable (which probably means he'll claw my face off about ten seconds after I write this), but he's still adorable.

Soooo, was this year's Valentine's Day an improvement over last year?  Well, admittedly there were still no hot men romancing me, but a fabulous girly dinner with the awesome Tiny Dancer and then having a furry little feline man-whore snuggle up to me in bed?  Hell yeah - definite improvement!