Hello everyone! Sorry for the two week hiatus, but I’ve need a little mental health time. Good news is I’m back to feeling motivated and ready to continue sharing content with all of you. Some new things to share! Last weekend, Adam, some of his friends, and I went to Planet Comic Con in Kansas City where we crossed a HUGE item off Adam’s bucket list. You can check out all the excitement in my latest vlog video, Our Planet Comic Con Adventure. You can also find pictures on my Instagram, @CrossIt_Off.
So let me start by saying I hope you all had a wonderful Valentine’s Day, no matter what that entailed for you. In fact, that is exactly what I want to talk about today. I can’t remember if I’ve stated it outright on here before, but I didn’t date until I was in college. Nevertheless, when I was in high school, Valentine’s Day was one of my favorite holidays. For me, it wasn’t about spending that specific day with someone. It was about knowing that someday I would meet the one person who would love me unconditionally, who would always be there for me no matter the capacity. Someone who would know every piece of me better than anyone else ever had or ever would. Well let me tell you, this year I had the Valentine’s Day that sixteen year old girl never even knew she was capable of dreaming up.
The day began with a work meeting across town at 7:30. I was wearing the red dress I bought a week earlier just for the the holiday, which I got several comments on. We were all given heart shaped suckers that had little Valentine’s cards attached. Great start. After the meeting ended around 8:45, I headed back to my branch. On the way, I called Adam hoping to get even a hint of what he had planned for the evening. As I have made abundantly clear on this blog, Adam is pretty good at the romantic stuff. That being so, I had my expectations for Valentine’s Day set pretty high. However, he was keeping everything super secretive. I had no idea if we were doing lunch, dinner, a movie, staying in, nothing. As I expected, he didn’t let anything slip, but assured me that he had something in the works. So with confusion and frustration, I went to work.
Around 1:30, several of us were talking at the front desk when a FedEx woman walked through the door carrying a medium sized box and announced that she had a package for me. Everyone’s eyes eagerly flocked to me as I grabbed a pair of scissors and began tearing through the many layers of tape. Underneath the mountain of packing peanuts lay a square vase, a bag of rocks, and two stalks of bamboo bent into the shape of a heart. Attached to the box was a card announcing they were from my mom. I loved it! I thought, and everyone else agreed, that it was a nice, refreshing change from the hoards roses you usually see on Valentine’s Day.
About twenty minutes later, we were still hanging out at the front desk when we saw a van pull up. Because we have a lot of regular customers, the other girls I work with are able to look at a vehicle and know who it belongs to. However, they had never seen this one. A few seconds later, an older gentleman wearing a red vest and a black jacket got out, which intrigued everyone to stare out the window. Moments later, four other older gentleman in the same outfit emerged from the car. Immediately, everyone recognized that this was obviously a Barber Shop Quartet and began speculating who it was for. Immediately, my mind flashed back to a text I had sent Adam just a few minutes earlier. I had told him what my mom had sent me and how much I loved it. He replied with, “Adorable. I’ve got her beat.” Sure enough, the five gentleman walked in and asked for me. Immediately, everyone took their phones out as the quartet began singing. They sang three songs. Two I didn’t know, but one was Let Me Call You Sweetheart, which I absolutely love! It was the cutest, sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, and in true hopeless romantic (as I am definitely one) style.
A half hour pasted and everyone was still buzzing about the Barber Shop Quartet. Just when I thought the day couldn’t possibly get any better, Sarah walked in carrying a Russell Stover’s box of chocolates. But this was no ordinary Russell Stover’s box. Oh no. When Sarah told me I’d have to “eat them quick while they’re still hot,” I removed the top to find all the chocolates had been replaced with McDonald’s chicken nuggets. I had seen that in a Facebook post years earlier and had always wanted a guy to do that for me. But as I’ve said since the day we became besties, who needs a man when I’ve got Sarah?
After work, I headed over to Adam’s, still unaware of what to expect. When I got there, we exchanged presents (because apparently the quartet wasn’t enough), and Adam asked if I would rather go out or stay in for dinner. Knowing that every single restaurant would be packed until closing, I opted to stay in. So, we made the not very romantic but super appropriate for Adam and I chicken fries and mac and cheese and watched our new favorite TV show, Face Off. Actually, it was pretty perfect.
So why did I say it was the Valentine’s Day sixteen year old me never even knew she was capable of dreaming up? Because when I sixteen, the perfect Valentine’s Day was being sent a dozen red roses with a box of chocolates, being picked up by Zac Effron, and whisked away to some five star restaurant for a candle light dinner. Obviously, there are several unrealistic things about that scenario. The reason this was unknowingly the Valentine’s Day I always wanted is because so many people around me loved me enough to not only do something meaningful, but also show me they really get me. My mom knew that someone else at the work would probably get roses and wanted to get me something that would stand out and be different, like me. I hadn’t told Adam this, but ever since I had seen several of my friends receive a Barber Shop Quartet in high school, I had always secretly hoped someone would one day send me one. And as I mentioned earlier, I have wanted the chocolate box full of nuggets for years. These people know me so well, I didn’t even have to tell them how perfect all these things would be. At sixteen, it was all about “that one person.” Well somehow, I’m lucky enough to have many “person”s. I have never felt more loved or more cared about. It was definitely one for the history books.