I cannot remember if a man has ever bought me flowers. There’s a good chance, given how many plays and musicals I performed in during college (seven, I believe), that SOMEONE I was dating brought me flowers after a show at some point. But even that is tough for me to picture. And though a lovely gesture, really not the same as being given flowers just because. Something I am certain has never happened to me. There might be a man out there who could dispute this claim, but I feel confident that he won’t be reading this, and so I stand firm in my assertion. No man has ever bought me flowers!*
*I was gifted a succulent for Valentine’s Day earlier this year, which was nice to be sure. But let’s be clear. That is definitely not the same as receiving roses.
When I was younger, I made a very big deal about never wanting to receive flowers of any kind as a gift. They’re only going die, I’d say! No, I’d insist, I’d rather have chocolate.
But now, at this big age of [REDACTED], I’ve changed my tune. Flowers are a lovely gift. I love sending them to friends, and rather than hold my breath as I wait for flowers from a man, as the poet Miley Cyrus wrote, I can buy myself flowers. And one of the great joys of my week is putting in my headphones (wired), walking to Trader Joe’s, and selecting a bouquet of flowers for myself.
A canvas tote bag with a saying like “All Booked Up” or “In My Reading Era” slung over my shoulder. I strut through TJ’s automatic doors, Carley Rae Jepsen’s Cut to the Feeling (or a similarly anthemic pop song) playing in my ears. I am the heroine of my own rom com. A meet cute is imminent.
Once I cross the threshold, immediately, I become overwhelmed (positive) with options. This spring, I’ve been enamored by the tulip selection. A wide variety of colors — pinks (lights and darks), oranges, yellows, whites — week after week, I’ve consistently selected from these bins. 20 stems for just $10.99?! What a deal, I think!
Only two days ago though, I decided to get a little crazy and mix things up. It’s nearly summer, I thought to myself. Time for sunflowers! Sunflowers are, for anyone taking notes, my favorite flower.
In You’ve Got Mail, Meg Ryan’s Kathleen Kelly remarks, “Don’t you think daisies are the friendliest flower?”And while I do agree with her there, I would argue that sunflowers are the warmest, most joyful flower. And paired in a bouquet with gerbera daisies? Happiness personified. I simply cannot resist.
The weekly ritual continues as I make my selection, walk to the checkout counter (pulling out one earbud so I can make my best small talk.) I put my flowers in my tote, and I begin my walk back home. As I pass others on the street, I feel very Mrs. Dalloway (minus, of course, the themes of suicide). I wonder if people think I am headed to a party. Or if I bought these flowers are for a lover. Or if they are, in fact, just for me. Which they are.
I place them in a vase, where they will brighten up my living from for the next 4 or so days before the petals start to fall off. And when that happens, I will refill the water and leave the semi-deceased arrangement out for longer than I should. Until I decide it is time once again to treat myself to a little serotonin boost. Because while the moon belongs to everyone, the best things in life are free $10.99.
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