February 3, 2011


This is the story of the Valentine's Day that never was.

One year, we were dating a couple of guys. Sort of. Not really. Our love life was actually quite a sad mess.

And we had been working way too much. We worked our ass off all summer long, never went camping, or to an outdoor concert, or even a picnic. It was all work, allthetime.

We get it. The truth about men who are afraid of commitment is that they disappear a few weeks before Valentine’s Day...and reappear a few days afterward. This was the case that year. 

So, we decided to treat ourself to summer-in-the-middle-of-winter in February with a trip to Australia.

On February 13th, we flew to Sydney, Australia. And in the middle of the night, we crossed the international dateline and instantly it was February 15th.

The plane landed on a bright, happy autumn morning and we recall the bells of St. Mary’s Cathedral ringing to greet us as our taxi took us to the hotel. 

We had completely skipped February 14th, and it was perfect.

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