The big day is less than 40 hours away and sad-sackery has reached fever pitch. Time to put down the Chubby Hubby, people!
It happens every year. January rolls into February, and almost overnight millions of American singles – both men and women – become walking Cathy cartoons. Those afflicted are easy to spot, violently wincing through the greeting card aisle of their nearby pharmacy; crying at work when you ask a question like “any special plans?” or “so what’s new?” As February nears its mid-point, symptoms worsen. They avoid most public settings. Like bulls, the color red drives them to near madness. The fast-approaching low point is usually dictated by gender, women hitting the ice cream freezer and settling in for a Gilmore Girls marathon; men grabbing a sixer of Coors and the just-released Swimsuit Issue. Either way, both camps “want to effing die.”
The cause of this epidemic? Valentine’s Day. Or “that holiday Hallmark invented.” Or “that conformist celebration of commodified puppy love.” Or “why do you have a boyfriend and I don’t?” Your loudly depressed friend could go on for days.
Most people are able to see February 14th for the harmless holiday it is, a day for a) sharing love with significant others in the form of cards (thanks, Mom! Thanks, Grandma!), roses, or sex and b) devouring chocolate in a guilt-free setting. The BEST holiday, right? For some, however, V-Day is anything but a sexy, chocolatey dream. To them it’s an attack on their relationship record; a corporate-sponsored reminder of their romantic failures or stagnancy. It is the WORST holiday imaginable.
I’d be lying if I said I’ve never wallowed in self-pity or dreamed of a world in which romantic relationships were built on a foundation of Star Wars references and not “honesty,” but I’ve matured at least enough to know that how you react to events is as important as (if not more important than) the events themselves. Your girlfriend dumped you? You’ve never had a girlfriend? Boo-hoo. Do something about it.
Saturday’s celebration of love and romance shouldn’t get you down, it should inspire you – like a red, white and pink New Year’s Eve – to change certain things in your life. (Probably your hair and deodorant.) The greeting card cartel and your super-in-love best friend aren’t out to get you anymore than the Easter Bunny. Which is to say they’re not out to get you. We can all move on!
And since Lifting Fog is all about positive action, we’ve already got your next step figured out. You want a relationship? They’re all waiting for you here, here or (wow, really?) here! Don’t say we never did anything for you.
Tags: RESOLVED, Self-Pity, Valentine's Day
Lifting Fog 
February 12, 2009 at 10:29 pm |
my roommate has spent the entire afternoon watch marriage proposals on youtube. i’m carving a picture of an anatomical heart on a block of linoleum.
February 13, 2009 at 3:48 pm |
You mentioned your Star Wars thing. Do you know about this? (Probably.)
February 14, 2009 at 4:57 pm |
steph – That sounds like a lovely V-Day warm-up. I watched ‘Mamma Mia!: The Movie’ and covered my bed in roses.
JES – I did hear about that documentary and was definitely excited until I saw the trailer. Between the overweight guy singing “George Lucas Raped Our Childhood” (WTF) and at least 5-6 poncy Brits going on about “this sense, you know, of chiiild-like woundaah,” I think my love affair with Star Wars is moving toward the inevitable burnout. Every new birthday brings me closer to becoming one of the losers in that trailer, and I just can’t have it.