Well another year has passed, which of course means another year of me being single. I actually really enjoy it, but if there’s one day that has to try and convince me that I’m a lonely and pathetic person because of it, it’s that abomination of a 24-hour time period: Valentine’s Day. Really, this is just the stupidest holiday we have, and this is taking into consideration we also have Columbus Day. I mean, what did that guy ever do?!
But really, what this is about is how gross people get around and on Valentine’s Day. I’ve got one set of grandparents that are vacationing in Hawaii. Gross. I’ve got another set that will probably have a nice dinner, drink some wine, go home and watch Dancing with the Stars or Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Ew. My parents will probably tell each other that they love each other. I mean, come on!!
Listen people, I get it; you’re in love and you like being around another human being for long periods of time. You like to talk about feelings. That’s great. I’m so glad you’re happy, but keep that crap away from me. On Valentine’s Day, if I see a couple holding hands, I’m going to shout, “Get a room!” at them. If I see a couple making out, I’m going to yell, “Gross!”. If I see a couple with their clothes off about to have sex, well, I’m going to call the police because that is public indecency.
I know it sounds like I’m bitter about being single on Valentine’s Day, but I’m really not. One of the best parts about being single on Valentine’s Day is being able to do whatever you want with impunity or fear to ruin a “relationship” by not buying the “right” roses. Sometimes I like to buy a box of chocolates and tell the cashier they’re for a special someone, but really I’m my own special someone and I really like chocolate. However, I can’t really do that this year because I’ve already done that twice this week, and three times just seems desperate. Other times I like to watch romantic comedies and heckle them for being “sweet” and “sincere”, but I’m currently banned from all AMC movie theaters nationwide on Valentine’s Day.
This year, I might try something different. Since I’m dating myself, I might take us out for a nice couple’s dinner at the all-you-can-eat Brazilian steakhouse that I live above. And nothing says, “I love me” quite like a box of donuts in bed. I might even go to Applebee’s and get the 2 for $20 lunch special for the both of me. And if anyone asks if I’m waiting for someone else, I will proudly state that no, I am not waiting for anyone else, I am merely treating myself to a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner, is there a problem with that are you judging me can I have a third bottle of that pinot noir and bring me more meat too, thanks.
So to all of you happy couples out there, I sincerely wish you a happy Valentine’s Day. I hope you enjoy your time together and don’t run out of things to talk about. And if you see one of us helplessly single people staring at you across the restaurant tonight, we’re not judging you. We’re merely staring at you to make you uncomfortable so we can enjoy our Meat Lover’s Meat Plate for Two without gagging at the sight of you holding hands in public. Get a room.
Valentine’s Day is over and we all survived! I’m not going to make some snarky comment about Valentine’s Day and how it’s so lame and only total sellouts fall into the trap of celebrating it. I’m not even going to complain about all of the annoying, happy couples. I’m buying into all of the Valentine’s Day nonsense! I’m totally getting a boyfriend before next Valentine’s Day. Girl, if I can do it SO CAN YOU!
We don’t want another year like this, do we girls?
The following is a step by step guide to get yourself a boo before Valentine’s Day 2013.
Step One: Get Out of Bed
If you’re like me, your loneliness is so crippling, most days getting out of bed just feels impossible. That’s NOT how to get a boyfriend. Believe me, girl! You’ve got to find a reason to get out of your bed! For example, tactically park your car in the direction of the nearest Cracker Barrel. When the sun rises on another sad day of your life, get out of bed! You can do it! You’re so close to the Cracker Barrel Country Boy Breakfast! Things are going to change for you today!
Step Two: Cry
Once you’re out of bed, get ready for the day! Put on a cute outfit and a little bit of make up BUT make sure you get out all of your tears before you put on any makeup. Admit it. You’re going to cry today. Let it happen, girl! Get it all out of your system then get ready to go out and get yo’ man!
Step Three: Eat Everything in Sight
It’s science. Men love a lady with a hearty appetite. Eat your food quickly. Scarf it down, girl! You don’t have time to savor it. You’ve got men to hunt! On your way out of Cracker Barrel, stop in the country store and pick up two pecan logs. Eat one in the car. Throw the wrapper out of the window. When you get back to your room, eat the other pecan log. Act like the first one never happened.
Step Four: Do Your Thing
This step is the “how-to” lists equivalent of the “free style” in a dance number. Go about your day normally!
Step Five: Go Home
Since you are trying to meet people, this may seem counterproductive. Trust me, girl! You’ll thank me later. Go home.
Step Six: Get on the Internet and Find True Love
Internet dating is awesome! I’m not talking about dating sites. Those aren’t going to help you. Your next move is a bold move. You can do it, girl! Get on FaceBook!
Step Seven: Choose Your Boo!
Scroll through your list of FaceBook friends. Pick out a boy who is cute but not too cute. Don’t get too crazy, girl! It’s not like you’re a model! (If you are a model feel free to alter this step.)
Step Eight: Change Your Relationship Status
Make your relationship status “In a Relationship with Insert Name of Boy from Step 7 . I mean, he might go for it! If he gets weirded out just say it was an accident! What’s the worst thing that could happen? You’re alone forever? It seems like that’s inevitable, girl! At least you’ll have taken a risk!
We’ve got 365 more days to go through steps 1-8. If you wake up each morning and follow these instructions, I guarantee you’ll have a Valentine next year!*
Love ya girl!
*My guarantee means very little.
During my weekend of walking around aimlessly, running errands, cringing at the worst broadcast of the Grammy’s in decades, and sitting through a glut of advertisements beating Valentine’s Day to a bloody pulp, I had a random assortment of musings that have absolutely no connection whatsoever. Typical
Are You There Grammy’s? It’s Me, Apathy
- The Grammy’s were terrible
- Apparently, the go-to hairstlye of 2012 is Bad Combover. Thank you, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver and Mr. Molesley from Downton Abbey for making balding the chic ‘do of the year.
- Adele’s music has been scientifically proven to induce sobbing, according to the Wall Street Journal. So really, she’s not some poor girl trying to get over a bad breakup; she’s a ruthless villain trying to destroy the world one heartbroken, slobbering mess at a time.
- I’ve watched more videos of Whitney Houston in the past few days than any white, upper-middle class male living at home has any right to. However, I’ve come to the conclusion my favorite Whitney is a toss up between “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” Whitney (a song my friends and I requested at our senior prom), and reality TV star Whitney. Yes, she was “The Voice of a Generation”, but clips like this show you she was really “The Comedic Voice of a Generation”.
- Words I have the misfortune of seeing in the future: Chris Brown, Grammy winner.
- Words I have the joy of writing without fear of libel: Chris Brown, convicted felon
And What Did You Do This Weekend?
- I recently got a library card, and while hanging out at the library on the weekends, have begun to wonder if this might be the catalyst my dating life needs to sputter out of reverse and into park. This weekend I saw the large print section overflowing with elderlies, the computers crowded with people muttering to themselves, and the DVD section being devoured by people fighting over the newest copy of Breaking Dawn. Of course, I stayed and scoped out the crowd. Nothing this week, but there’s nothing more productive to do on a three day weekend than troll the library.
- It was 75 degrees in Los Angeles this weekend.
- Our refrigerator hasn’t been working, which means that I’ve had the enviable task of eating all of the perishable food before it goes bad, and drinking all of the beer before it gets too warm. It’s been a rough week.
- I went on another date with my sister, this time to the mall. Horrifyingly, I had a great time.
Why Valentine’s Day Can Suck My Nuts
- I hate everyone who has someone special to spend Valentine’s Day with, during which they express their love and affection for each other. It’s disgusting. And yes, that includes you, Mom and Dad.
- I considered sending myself a box of chocolates at work to make it seem like someone loved me. Then I realized that would seem desperate, so I settled on an Edible Arrangements.
- If I see anyone, and I mean ANYONE, holding hands on, I will yell at them to get a room.
Things That Help, Thanks For Asking
- I will probably go see This Means War by myself today.
- If I don’t go see This Means War, I will rent Human Centipede, as I feel they both offer up the same sentiment, expressed slightly differently. Either way, Reese Witherspoon is in the middle.
- For lunch, I’m going to go to Applebee’s and order the 2 for $20 deal for myself. And I will finish both entrees.
- I received a card on Valentine’s Day from my grandparents with $10 inside. It totally made my day
Valentines day is upon us, yes, so it can seem as though those of us unattached are meant to feel
hideously bitter left out of the loop. But I think the whole “hag” thing is played out for me this year. Instead, I choose to be upbeat. I choose to still wear pink today. I choose to remember that there’s always a lot to celebrate even if you’re the one stuck with the responsibility of buying yourself roses and chocolates and vibrators this time of year. And so, with unbridled (and only a little bit forced) optimism, may I present, what I consider to be The Plus Sides of Single-hood:
- You get to wear your crest white strips at night without complaint. Who’s really trying to deal with that in the morning?
- You get to litter half of your bed with your computer and ipad and purse and trash from when you went shopping earlier when you go to sleep.*
- You get to proudly tell your gynecologist that you are not sexually active.
- Wanna watch 6 episodes of Say Yes to the Dress in a row on Netflix while eating an entire family sized bag of white cheddar popcorn in your bed? Go ahead! Just me? Ok!
- You get to gratuitously fart in bed.
- You get to smile sweetly while that dude you met at the bar 6 minutes ago tries everything short of physically dragging you to get you to his apartment (My advice? Marry. Him. Tonight. Then you’ll never be alone again).
- Wait, you bought your underwear in a 3 pack at Walmart too? The kind where the print looks like it should be on a toddler’s bedspread, but instead it’s on your thong? Oh my God, we HAVE to get
drunk togethercoffee. We have so much in common.
- Kardashians. No apologies.
- You get to know the real you. The you that happily eats brunch alone at restaurants. The you that buys fresh produce with the best of intentions but ends up eating delivery Thai food in bed at least twice a week. The you that weeps openly by yourself in the theater at The Muppet Movie. The you that, lets get real, is worth getting to know. Because, you know, she’s going places.
*You can also sleep dead center on your mattress, which carries it’s own redeeming value. I, however, recommend the litter avenue; helps guard against that “crater of loneliness” that will form if you sleep in the middle long enough, which is a turn off that bi-annual night you manage to land somebody there. Also, flip your mattress. Ah, but it’s kind of a two man job…
Hey, everybody, want to look at my favorite thing that I found on the internet today? Are you ready for it? You have to get ready for it. Because it’s this:
Once I got over being furious that I was not the one to come up with this campaign, I got to thinking. I want to take a few moments to break down why this is the best idea ever in the world:
1) Pizza is a perfect metaphor for love. One person is the dough, one person is the cheese, the sauce is the commitment, and all the stuff you might put on top of a pizza is everything in your life that makes your relationship great like your kids and your shared friends and the stuff you like to do together and all that shizz. See? Boom.
2) Nothing screams forever like pizza. Why, you ask? Well, stupid, it’s not just because of America’s (read: my) unfaltering love for the saucy, cheesy awesomeness. Pizza, at its very core, is simultaneously indulgent and familiar. It is special and fun to order pizza on a Friday night, but also comfortable and not a huge to-do. Pizza, in that way, represents all that a marriage should be: a love that affords both variety and realism. To expect doves and romance all the time probably isn’t reasonable. After all, no one except for passengers on the titanic eats “romantic” food like champagne and caviar every day. And, anyway, let’s look how well that worked out for them:
- Billy Zane was terrible and pretentious from the start- but do you think Rose would have Split a New York style pizza with Jack the second they got off the boat? Nod that head!
- Everybody on the titanic died.
3) I would never mean to imply that pizza isn’t romantic. It is very romantic. It’s just the restrained, acceptable kind of romance that doesn’t make me want to puke everywhere. Let’s keep anything heart shaped out of the picture.
4) Moreover, pizza, like life and love, is wont to change. Though one’s love may change and evolve from a zesty pepperoni style love to a sweet pineapple kind of love, the root of it never changes. Leave it to cheese to remind us all why we fell in love in the first place. Hm.
5) Is there anything sexier than grease? Yes. It’s watching me eat a slice of pizza. Other than that? No.
These are just a few of the hundred million reasons why I think this pizza proposal thing is an amazing idea. Plus there’s a limo! And pictures! And a professional home video you’ll never watch! Ugh, does anything sound more perfect?
Future husbands take note.
Plus, hey, it’s refundable.
At the start of every month, I like to do a couple of things. I like to order Thai food, get my eyebrows waxed, and read my horoscope to prepare myself for the coming 30 or so days. In my experience, horoscopes get a lot of crap for being “fake” and “a waste of time”. But come on, how can you not get excited when some lady in the internet tells you that your “weekend of January 21 is full of sparkly energy” ? I’m pulling out my best sequined gear already.
Full disclosure, I don’t actually believe in my horoscope. If every Scorpio really did have a “grand old” week from the 8th through the 14th, I’m pretty sure it would be on the news or something. Plus, I would like to think myself too special to fall under the overwhelming blanket of personality and fate prescribed by the Universe. But this month, Astrologist Susan Miller got at least 2 things right.
Susan’s eerily solid predictions about my January got me a pretty excited when I moved into the romance section of my reading. As a lonely, this is the best part of the whole Horoscope. This month, it read as follows:
“Your most romantic day of the month, lucky you, falls on a Saturday, on January 14, when Venus and Jupiter combine energies. The day will be divine, for Venus in your house of love will send a signal to Jupiter in your house of commitment and closeness. No matter if you are single or attached, this day shimmers with romantic vibrations.”
Here’s how it really went. On my shimmering vibrator day of love hope, I woke up late, feeling kind of stuffy. I thought about going to yoga, but decided instead on brunch, promising myself I’d go to a later class. I didn’t. Instead, watched my friend play video games and then went and farted around in a yarn store for a while before deeming everything too expensive, and leaving. I stopped in a deli and picked up some jalapeño potato chips, then I went home, got in bed, watched Netflix, and ate a shit ton of jalapeño potato chips. Nice work, Venus and Jupiter. Thank you SO much.
Disappointed, though this left me, I have no intention of bagging the horoscope thing in general. I know it’s useless, but I really like the idea of some lady sitting on an oriental rug somewhere telling the whole world what is going to happen to them every month. Ah, to have a job like that. I love oriental rugs. And apparently, it’s not a bad gig. Susan Miller is speaking in New York at the beginning of February for a modest ticket price of $125.00. For another $65 I could have a private three-course lunch with her. Most romantic day of the month? Talk about the most romantic day of my LIFE! What do you think? Should I go?
Horoscopes aside, I am pretty excited for 2012. It’s finally the year of the dragon! How could this not be my year?
I was a bridesmaid, recently, in a friend’s wedding. It was a lovely ceremony, a beautiful party, and a delightfully open bar. This was my first high school friend to get married, so it was kind of a doozy. There were a bunch of people that I went to high school with there, who I was admittedly a little nervous to see. As, you, my imaginary readers, know, I am just so very unemployed, which is not the proudest thing to announce to people you haven’t seen in 3 years. I thought about lying about my life. But then, I thought, I should reconsider.
Let me tell you a little story about a lie I once told. During my sophomore year of college, I approached the winter break with dread and anxiety. Then, much as now, I felt nervous about seeing old friends. I needed encouragement, a game to play to help me feel less inexplicably uneasy. Naturally (not crazily at all) I decided to create a fake boyfriend, complete with backstory and Facebook page, and trick my friends into thinking he was real. Those who knew me best called me out on it within 15 minutes (the bride from this wedding among them). There were others, still, who I kept going for over 2 and a half years. Truly, this was my Magnus Opus.
For those among you considering a similar experiment (which I do recommend), here are some of the details. My boyfriend, Phil Bobberman, was a first year law student at the William and Mary School of Law. I had met him through a friend of a friend at school. My friend who introduced us was a real person that I knew from a study abroad, who none of my high school friends had met, but who I had talked about before, unwittingly establishing credibility. Phil Bobberman had grown up in Pennsylvania, liked hiking and photography, and was hoping to start a career in copyright law. His Facebook pic was of him far away on a mountain, hiding his face with a camera while taking a picture (re: he loved photography). I found it on google.
it was something to this effect
I arranged an accomplice. A friend who had helped concoct the plot posed as Phil. I changed his name in my phone to Phil Bobberman, and we texted periodically over break. I would let him know when I was in a group of people and he would text or call me then. One time, I let a high school friend pick up one of these calls before passing it over to me, at which point I made sure to sound all love struck and shit. This whole project was enhanced by the fact that I am a phenomenal actress. Seriously, though, I’m really good.
I was very pleased with myself over this whole thing. I thought (and maintain) that it was hilarious. I eventually heard through the grape vine that my friends, as they found out that Phil was, in fact, fake, thought I was a psychotic asshole, and, well, I can’t say I entirely disagree. As such, it was a little troubling that at this wedding, my immediate impulse was to make an excuse for why my fabulous New York boyfriend couldn’t be there as my date. I guess I feel ok about resisting that impulse. I’m really not trying to become the girl-who-cried-fake-boyfriend. Although, I will admit to you now, internet, that I do think that the only thing funnier than doing it once would be doing it twice.
Fun though it may have been to trick everybody again, I decided that I should really be respectful of Phil’s memory. It was special time we shared together before he realized he was gay and dumped me publicly. I would never want to cheapen that.