Meesha's Mish Mash

Love is . . . Bill & Glad

Helen of Troy was so beautiful her face is said to have launched 1,000 ships full of bronzed, virile, testosterone raging men. If the lack of Valentine cards I received on Thursday is any indication, my face would struggle to get even this guy to put to sea for me –

Later that evening, I cried myself to sleep pondered the day’s events (or rather, non-events) with my friends Ruby Cabernet and Shiraz

In good times and bad, Ruby and Shiraz have been there for me. Loyal friends that they are, they have shared my successes and failures. An evening spent in their company almost always makes me view things in a happier light and Thursday night was no exception. I posed my ‘problem’ to Ruby and Shiraz and they brought me to realize that the lack of Valentine Cards supported an alternative conclusion to the one I had initially drawn

MeeshaNo one sent me a Valentine Card. No one loves me (sob)

Ruby C.Love is blind
Shiraz None of your male friends sent you a card because none of them could ‘see’ you
Ruby C.They were all blinded by your beauty
Shiraz Exactly !
Ruby C.Love is blind. All your male friends are blind in your presence
ShirazConclusion? All your male friends secretly love you !

You see why I enjoy spending time with Ruby C. and Shiraz ? đŸ˜†

On a more serious note. It is nice to be wined and dined by a man, to be presented with flowers and other marks of affection but these gestures, while nice, are not a true reflection of the deep underlying love a couple feel for each other. (often these gestures are simply part of the seduction process for a short-term relationship)

A man’s love for a woman isn’t measured by what he gives to her on Valentine’s Day, but how he treats her every day of the year. Sure, a girl wants to find a man who treats her well, makes her laugh, and sweeps her off her feet with romantic gestures. But what we really want is a man who will love us as Bill loves Gladys


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This entry was posted on February 16, 2013 by in Humor and tagged , , , , .
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