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Un-Valentine’s Day

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!!

Stop it! Just stop it!

Stop it! Just stop it!

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.

Happy Valentine's Day to me!

Happy Valentine’s Day to me!

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.

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Random Thoughts Loosely Connected to Valentine’s Day

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.

    There can only be one!

  • 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.

There can only be three-surgically-fused-as-one!

  • 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

The Plus Sides of Single-Hood

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:

  1. You get to wear your crest white strips at night without complaint. Who’s really trying to deal with that in the morning?
  2. 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.*
  3. You get to proudly tell your gynecologist that you are not sexually active.
  4. 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!

    White cheddar popcorn has likely never touched this woman's lips. I weep for her. She's missing out.

  5. You get to gratuitously fart in bed.
  6. 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).
  7. 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 together coffee. We have so much in common.

    There is no bra in the world that these would compliment.

  8. Kardashians. No apologies.
  9. 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…

A Scorpio in January

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.

The only woman I trust more than my mom

First, she said that “With your third and ninth houses of publishing emphasized this month, you may now get more involved in social media or update your blog or website.” HELLO? Spooky, right? Who even knew I had one house of publishing, let alone nine! Maybe I have more! I’m calling it now, the day my fifth and one hundred-sixteenth houses of publishing are in line with Saturn’s butthole is the day I win my Pulitzer. For this blog. Ok, moving on.
Next, she said, “on January 12 you have an outstanding day when Mars will reach out to the Sun in Capricorn. This would be a fantastic day to…have an interview.” WHICH I DID! And I think I sounded somewhat competent! I’ll hear about it next week, so stay tuned.

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.”

So something like this

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?