Neither Dan nor I is particularly into Valentine's Day. I mean, we're not strewing about black hearts with daggers through them or anything, but we're not really into the whole flowers/chocolate/pink/puppies kind of thing. Which is unusual considering how into flowers/chocolate/pink/puppies I typically am.
It dawned on me several days before that February 13th would be our 100 day mark before the wedding, so I decided I would celebrate that instead. Benefits abound:
a) He wouldn't suspect anything.
b) Wedding countdowns are infinitely cooler than Valentine's Day. Well, maybe more infinitesimally rather than infinitely, but still.
c) I wouldn't be succumbing to the MAN.
Having just done the whole candlelit homemade dinner thing the week before in celebration of our 7-year anniversary, I was brainstorming something else to do. First, let's backtrack 3.5 months. In October, we visited one of our dear friends slash one of my old roommates in Miami. At that time, she held an obsession with the song "The King of Wishful Thinking." Parenthetical: I love my friends. Close parenthetical. I randomly heard this song on the radio for probably the first time in my 23+ years of radio-listening and, logically, my shoulders began to move in time. Then lightning struck:
Thus was born the First Annual Anti-Valentine's Day 100 Day Mark Dance Party.
Leggings and oversize t-shirt were donned. Confetti and streamers were cascaded. Junk food was set to be consumed. Surprise, enlightenment, and ecstasy followed.