In the absence of any specific romantic interests at the moment, I hereby dedicate this fourteenth of February to the sassy southern California private eyes and vampire slayers, the cheerleading super-spies, the spearweilders of Kanbal, the reckless and fashionable shapeshifting warrior/martyrs, the alive-again girlfriends, the daydreaming bookworms, the exasperatingly outspoken scullery maids of red-gold hair and noble birth, and Alaska’s feminist bush pilots; not to mention all the real women in my life: my mothers, sisters, and friends; my leaders and colleagues; my accomplices in dragon-making, border runs, and globe-trotting; the color wheel aficionados; the hiking and/or canoeing companions; the stimulating conversationalists; the engineers, writers, librarians, knitters, gardeners, scholars, managers, teachers and trainers, bloggers, and artists; those who have fallen in love with and married my friends, who have been incredible friends to me as well; those who have kept me company on many late nights, driving many dark and meandering roads; and, of course, the voluptuous altos (who always seem to get stuck with all the crummy parts). You are strong, confident, beautiful women who remind me of all there is to love in the world, even if the path to romance is never obvious or easy. You have my deepest respect, gratitude, and adoration.
To all the friends and family, male and female, that I don’t see much of these days, know that, despite my profound unresponsiveness since returning to school, you are all very close to my heart today and always. Happy Valentine’s Day!