Valentine''s Day | florist | Halloween | author and producer

In my opinion, Valentine's Day wins for Most Awkward Holiday. Days designed for romance have not been my friend over the years. First there was the span of singledom, made more painful and poignant when the calendar indicated an evening meant for romance. With a new boyfriend (and there were plenty of those), there was always the strain of deciding how big to go on the gift - were cuff links too cliché? Would the present I picked remind him of his hideous ex? What was the perfect measure of my esteem and appreciation, neither so generous to cause discomfort nor so stingy that I didn't seem to care?

And then there was the question of flowers, by far the worst part. Don't get me wrong; I love flowers. But I love them so much I spent five years during high school and college working at a florist shop. That's five Februarys of fingers blackened, chapped, and sore from stripping thorns from the stems of thousands of roses lest they prick the fingers of the giver's beloved. Five years of watching the price of roses double overnight thanks to incessant demand on that one day. As February 14 approached, I'd see every roadside stand burst with blooms - and offer a silent prayer that I would not be a recipient of a $100 bunch. But how could I convey to the new man in my life that roses just aren't for me without sounding demanding or difficult?

After I met my future husband on that auspicious Halloween, he quickly learned that I was "not going to be easy to date." New to town, he researched a special evening consisting of a recently opened restaurant and a fun show. Of course, I'd eaten at the hot spot a week before. And although I don't run in theater circles, I'd chanced to see the play with the author and producer, who happened to be friends of a friend. Always game for a challenge, my future husband tried again, with better luck the second time.