Friday, March 20, 2009

A Rose By Another Name

I am all for signs of affection. I think it’s cute that my dad will bring home a rose for my mom on Valentine ’s Day. My greatest friend dropped off a non-occasion gift one day and I totally loved it. When we were dating, my former surprised me with one of those huge paper roses- I’m having a difficult time getting rid of it.

However, I have a thing about gifts of affection; they don’t mean much to me out of context. This comes from past experiences with receiving roses. Other than family, I’ve been given roses I think 5 times in my life. I’m not much on flowers and stuff for myself, but here’s where the context comes in.

The first time that roses meant something to me was at the YFC grad banquet. I went with a good friend and he brought me a bouquet of red roses. Loved it. I didn't know what to do with them really, but loved it.

The second time I remember was a basketful of white roses from my best friend at the time, Taz. It was for my graduation. Loved it. Also for my graduation, my bf at the time took a moment to ask Taz what my favorite flower was and surprised me with white roses [I also love orchids and tulips]. Loved it. It showed that they wanted to know about me, had spent time with me, cared about what I liked.

The fourth time, I was in Vegas over valentine’s weekend. The AIAS [architecture student’s club] of Southern CA decided to join the AIAS at UNLV to do a service project. I stayed in a room with 2 of my friends and a UH student.

Valentine’s morning, we woke up to knocking on our door. UH got up and answered it. She walks back in the room with a display of roses. Two single roses were addressed to my two friends. The vase of a dozen red roses was for me. Sweet, right?

The catch is that they were from one of the guys from one of the other clubs, whom I had met maybe twice before that weekend. And whom had developed a crush on me. And whom was the kind of nice guy that would have let me walk all over him if I wanted to [I like nice guys, but they hafta have a backbone too, that’s another entry!].

So…it was too much from someone I didn’t really know and whom didn’t really know anything about me. This was only highlighted more by the fact that he had spelled my name as “Ginny.”

The last time, I had gone on one date and one lunch date with a nice guy. On the third day, he sent me a dozen red roses to my workplace. Kinda embarrassing, but fine. But then he had spelled my last name wrong on the envelope. I guess it bothered me more than it would have due to the “Ginny” incident, but still, it was too much from someone who didn’t take the initiative to find out how to spell my name correctly.

Is that just horrible of me that I see but can’t feel the sweetness behind the gesture? Is it so selfish of me to want my name spelled right? ‘Cuz now I’m thinking that if I’ve been dating someone for months and he sends me a gift but my name’s spelled wrong, there’s something wrong with the relationship and I’m outta there! Forget the possibility of love, spell my name right! Lol

Mahalo for reading.