Valentine's is Hard!

Roses are red,
Violets are blue
Valentine's is in a week.
And I don't know what to do.

My Mom asked me, "What are you going to do for Steven?" I wonder, is that a trick question?
I swear, I need GPS for lovers or something. This is the first Valentine's where I won't be alone, and I have absolutely no idea what to get for my boyfriend, Steven. I've gotten advice from friends, but they remind me of those poorly translated instruction pamhplets you get when you buy something made in a different country.

"Happy love when buy gift right. Give to boyfriend maybe chocolate yummy. "

Open mouth, insert foot. Spare me.

Not only are men impossible to shop for, but the men in my family just don't like anything. At all.
In all my life, my father has never really laughed out loud at anything. What do you do with that?

Pat, my older brother, is a bit easier. Something electronic. He's a film graduate, and is big on gadgets. If you walked into his apartment, you would think he's a secret spy for the LPD or something. The hard part is figuring out exactly what he does and does not have.

And I still don't know how to work the DVD player.

Andrew, my younger brother, is the worst of all. Picture this. Mom walks in, plastic shopping bag in hand.
"You said you needed some pants, right honey?"
Andrew, skeptically: "Yeeeaaaahhh............"
Mom. "Try these." She tosses him the perfectly decent pair of jeans. Andrew inspects them.
"Why did you get me these?"
Mom: "What's wrong with them?"
Andrew: "The pattern inside the pockets is kinda gay."

This is why I gave up with Andrew. He loves guns, and anything relating to the mimlitary. We try to lean in that direction when holidays approach, but, as with Pat, Mom and I, being the soul surviving women in the family, don't know what to do.

So back to Steven. He's my kind of guy. Well he is my guy. We've been dating for about six months, which is pretty decent. He's tall and lean, with soft shaggy hair that needs to be cut. He is, to be frank, hairy. His thick eyebrows crawl almost to the center of his forehead, and his chin gets scruffy two days after shaving.

Steven's cleft chin and wide smile give him the appearance of the mischievous Cheshire cat. Or a very handsome cartoon character. He's just a silly boy, who says he loves me at least once in every phone conversation, and at least twice when we just sit there, being with each other. Steven is a rocker, who would play his bass more often if he had any free time whatsoever. What time he does have, he usually spends with me. If I am not around the house at the moment, he will get pouty over the phone, and pretend to be angry about the injustice I have put upon him. Then he'll laugh and say, "I love you. Tomorrow then?" Always the optimist.

So what do you do for a guy like that? I guy with everything. He's not materialiistic, mind you, he lives on a budget, and there are planty of things he deserves. "But I have you," he says.

Que audience: "Awwwwww."

So as Steven and I fall more stupidly in love with eachother, Valentine's has become incrfeasingly more important. And I am completely lost. We will propbably end up getting each other something that doesn't seem like much but, we will both know that it means so much more.