Valentine's Day 2015, the whole story.
(My mom asked that I write down exactly what happened so we could remember for perpetuity.)
February is always a big month for me and Tom: his birthday, Valentine's Day, our anniversary. The week before I had thrown a steakhouse birthday dinner for Tom, and we had a nice weekend in NYC. So it would be silly to see each other two weekends in a row, when we live half a country apart. We each have demanding jobs and as we're in an LDR (long distance relationship -- he lives in Chicago), we see each other about every 4-6 weeks and have managed thus far throughout his residency.
It was one of those Valentine's Weeks when everyone, it seemed, was having roses delivered early to avoid snowstorms. I looked a bit wistfully at everyone's bouquets. Last year Tom had tried to send flowers to my office and it was a whole debacle getting through security. I got them five days late and they were close to dead, so this year, he said he would avoid sending flowers to work at all costs. Of course I demanded some sort of gift delivered because, what would I Instagram?
I was preparing myself to have the lowest of expectations for Valentine's Day. After all, I was having a cavity filled out-of-pocket, which was depressing enough. I was on call anyway to work yet another blizzard and thought I could just cook dinner for myself and skulk around my apartment.
My mom tried to arrange dim sum with me last minute but naturally, I couldn't eat after my dental work. Tom also stressed that I should be home by 3:00pm on Valentine's Day so I wouldn't miss the flower delivery again.
The dental work was really intense, and my face was lopsided from the anesthetics, like a mad joker.
I came home, slurped some soup, and inspected my entryway. No package. I announced to my roommate that I would check every 5 minutes past 3pm.
Tom called. "Did you get the flowers?"
"Not yet. I'll tell you when they come," I said.
3:45pm rolled around and I was resigned to another lost package.
Then the doorbell rang, and I leapt to answer it as I normally would for the Seamless man. Imagine my shock as Tom walked up my hallway with a large bouquet of pink roses! I screamed, "What are you doing here?!", yet because my face was lopsided I had a very strange expression on my face and Tom was smiling though confused. (N.B. He thought I had a stroke.)
He said, "You have an hour to pack because we're going to Manhattan to check into the newly revamped Gershwin Hotel, and we have dinner reservations so bring something to wear."
I was wearing a misshapen Gap sweater and had my hair in one of those multiple ponytails. Also my room really was in a state of disaster.
I was trying to quickly cut the flowers into a vase but was so excited I trimmed them at many different lengths. They were in perfect condition, not brown at the edges, and smelled great.
I packed in my slowpoke sort of way and we headed for the Evelyn Hotel. It was in NoMad and had trombone shaped light fixtures, musical scores in the walls and was very cool and jazzy. The elevator was one of those super slow Flatiron district elevators filled with history. And yes, Bigelow toiletries, which is an old-timey apothecary in NYC that makes amazing beauty products.
The temperatures were dropping quickly and it began to snow.
We headed next to reservations at the Blue Ribbon Sushi Izakaya in the Lower East Side. This is meaningful because our second date was at the Blue Ribbon in Columbus Circle, where Tom famously fell asleep (he had worked an overnight shift) and I accidentally ordered very expensive things.
This time around was much better. We ordered yummy items including charbroiled oysters in miso butter, sushi deluxe, pork belly skewer, duck fried rice and washed it down with Sauvignon Blanc. The restaurant was in a really beautiful setting with lanterns and low-cushioned seats, and I felt very fancy.
During dinner, Tom filled me in on how he planned the whole surprise, and had my friend in on it to ensure that I didn't make plans for the night. He had actually flown in earlier in the day, but because of my cavity he went to spend time with his friend in Flushing and then eventually made his way to my place.
After dinner, we decided against watching 50 Shades of Grey (ha!) and headed instead to the Landmark Sunshine Cinema, which has the best popcorn in NYC with special seasonings. They were showing a documentary that I first heard about on Instagram, via the New York City Ballet, called Ballet 422. I love dance movies -- they're like my version of sports movies. Usually poor plot but visually amazing. Tom was not as much into ballet, but the fact that he was open to watching this spoke volumes! This was reminiscent of our third date when we watched an obscure indie flick.
By the time we made our way back it was really blizzarding.
The next day, we had brunch at Banc Cafe and then took a cab back to Queens. After a couple episodes of Fresh Off the Boat (our new favorite show), Tom headed for the airport to catch a flight back to Chicago. Except that a deep chill had descended across the city, and all of Southwest's flights were canceled! Tom had to be at work on Presidents' Day.
After a big scramble to decode every flight flying out to Chicago from the three NY-area airports, he got a flight leaving from Philadelphia in the middle of the night. Which means - he had to shlep somehow from Queens to Philly in a matter of hours, and then catch a flight to Chicago and show up at work the next day.
The upside was we got to spend a few extra hours which means I got to cook him a Plated meal, a Valentine's themed "Lady and the Tramp" spaghetti with ricotta beef meatballs and marinara sauce. We also opened a semi-dry Riesling from the North Fork I had been saving.
Long story short, he made it back to Chicago after trains, planes, taxis, Lyft and buses.
All in all, it was the best Valentine's Day and I am clearly dating a mastermind planner. I am one lucky girl, who had really just planned to Hulu her way through Valentine's Day yet again.
