(Disclaimer - I write in the first person. Badly. And somewhat infrequently. So anything I say here is basically a general departure from the quality of journalistic intelligence and inteigrity that you otherwise read here at Blogher. Which is why a lot of times I feel like a total tool in this communitiy of brilliant gals. Anyway - feel free to read on if you like.)

It's been less than 12 hours and my heart is still in a state of flux, bemusement, and awe. This morning, his (my significant other) mother called him and asked him about it. Then with surprisingly little fanfare he brought IT home. Shiny. Pretty. Blingy. Inactivated as yet. But definitely curious.

So not too long ago, I started dating this really neat fellow. Actually, at the time I was dating two really nice fellows but following my own rules of engagement, I settled on one in particular. Which well... lead to engagement.

This post is not directed towards people in the current throes of passionate sex. For that you should, of course, be naked. And for people who are persistently in anticipation of passionate sex, then sleeping naked is not only a trigger for such activity, but an efficient and well thought out point of preparation.

Who am I to give advice on what to do for Valentine's day if you're single and without a man or woman to snuggle up with. More likely than not, later tonight, I'm going to be in a bathrobe with my honey and we're both going to be on our laptops killing bears, spiders, and undead scourge on WoW if we're able. This, after eating tacos. Mmmm high romance.