I celebrated Valentine’s Day once.
It was with a boyfriend.
But, really, we were just rainchecking on a “date” from another weekend. And we didn’t exchange gifts. It was kindofa fluke. Because 2-14-AnyYear is just of those holidays that’s like a magnified version of Facebook’s “someone got hitched/is in a relache/here’s their wedding album/here’s a mini babbling extension of their ego in flesh form” notifications. Except it’s all condensed down into a singularity of single-shaming until it morphs into a 24 hour long black hole that resides at the front of your calendar (right after those new year’s resolutions, too). If nobody else was asking “where’s my Russell Stover’s? My tennis bracelet? My flowers?!” (more of a demand than inquiry, really) on some random day of the year, would you be? No. That would be a preposterous expectation on any other day. And I feel like it is on this day as well. Still, I’m human – so much like the relache stuff itself, I still harbor a desire for things outta covetousness. And I forget how being linked up to another human often has the opposite effect of romantic love – or any kinda love – on me, which then spreads virally as this kind of dark misery to everyone else I’m supposed to love platonically or familial-ly in my life the second things aren’t going my way. Stupid. If you’re happy being in a duo, awesome. But if you know it ain’t for you right now because you’re like me and you’ve still got some dark tumorous soul seeds in desperate need of a hatred-ectomy, then don’t rush it.
Do my 6 point plan instead for today:
1.) Go see “50 Shades of Grey”. By yourself.
And then, once you’re all riled up, go visit the MVC late night novelty toy shop afterward.
And buy some whips and chains.
To use on whoever the eff did the godawful casting that was so egregious even the trailer sucked.
2.) Bake a cake.
Then proceed to eat the entire thing by yourself with a serving spoon while crying into it until the last fourth of your gorging is naught but salty sludge fudge. And then barf it up.
Or scratch both’a those last two things and go give the cake to your local homeless shelter.
See if it doesn’t make you feel a little bit better (or at least thinner) about yourself.
3.) Hit a nice quiet gym with your Valentine-less posse
You know how everyone says they’ll wait to hit the gym to fulfill their new year resolutions – because it inevitably gets less crowded within a couple months? Yeah. This day is the reason for that. Pastel colored confections, “Be Mine” cupcakes, and solid chocolate hearts (that ironically will probably contribute to yours stopping) are the culprits. Whether you receive them from someone good intentioned or just buy ‘em up to send to yourself and comfort eat like some unsexy evil twin of Cher a la “Clueless”, this is where the resolutions suddenly fail. But not for you. It’ll be hard, darling, I know – but so will your bum, come spring. If you go, that is. Need thinspiration? Visit your local Wal-Mart for eye-bile (AKA: anti-eye-candy) while reminding yourself: carb-endorphins last on your ass and make you sad while cardio-endorphins last on your brain and grant you porn star gams and back-hams.
4.) Hire a sexy librarian call girl
I can’t wait to get this bish home and give her a good dic…tation.
Of my next day’s articles.
So she can type ’em up for me.
Also, she will tell me how brilliant and funny I am. This could bleed over into non-holidays if I feel like I believe her acting. Not a writer yourself? Then have your professional pleaser read you a bedtime story, braid your hair, paint your nails, and maybe even have a thumb war. If you’re a chick too, you can get sex prettymuch anytime for free. You need only walk into an establishment and gesticulate south with both arms like you’re directing a plane into your nether trench. Why waste cash on it? That’s like paying to sit in a movie theater when there’re sites like Primewire out there.
Have fun. Get creative.
5.) Have a solo RomCom party, Netflix binge style
With a notepad in hand.
One in which you’ll write me a scene-by-scene explanation.
About why what’s happening in your movie of choice would never happen in reality.
Can’t think of anything? Start with the obvious: lighting, perfect hair and makeup, how no one interrupts each other, how everyone listens to each other, how I never see Rachel McAdams take a dump once in the Notebook, and how nobody IRL gets a soundtrack – and if they did it’d always sound like an orchestra warming up ’cause life doesn’t have a smooth narrative…
And work deeper from there.
Due date: Monday morning. 08:00.
6.) OD on web smut
And then, when you’re done, use your internet to look up fun facts about how Valentine’s Day’s actually about not being an asshole. Even when the rest of the world is. Among the many “Saint Valentines” (and there’s a fckk ton of ‘em), one of the more notable ones did the ultimate act of anti-assholery that there is: serving up a Jesus-meets-Ghandi level forgiveness and compassion cocktail to his warden… by healing the guy’s kid. That’s right, he’s sat there on death row (because: religion) when he starts getting watched over by this dude called Asterius… and his daughter, Julia. Granted, the daughter’s kind and brings him extra food and messages. But were it me, I’d’ve been next-level pissed off at my jailer and preoccupied with a head full’a holy-shit-I’m-‘bout-to-die to even notice someone was doing me favors. Plus, it’s my jailer’s offspring. Screw ‘em all, right? Not Saint V. Homeboy pushed all that shit aside and did something unheard of for modern folk who claim to share his religion: he actually lived out the things his religion says to do – and healed the daughter of the dude keeping him in jail anyway.
The happy ending to this rom com?
He gives her a note signed “Your Valentine”.
Then gets executed.
But before you say, “Ah… no good deed”, don’t give up just yet. There’s a lesson behind this tale – and a reason to celebrate this wonderful day of love beyond just the romantic kind the Chaucer era popularized when courtly love became a thing. The logic behind my “do good shit for everybody” suggestion is that, if you think about it, it’s kinda win-win. If you do something nice, you might get healed on some level like Julia the jailer’s daughter did. The extra upside? If you sorta still hate the person you’re forcing yourself to be nice to, the love story of Saint Valentine shows us that somewhere down the line there remains a chance….
… that they’ll suffer a three part execution of beating, stoning, and beheading.