The VD-Day Hangover
Valentine’s Day has come and gone. As a single gal, I sure am sad — mainly because I don’t get to hear other girls bitch about what their boyfriends did or didn’t do this year.
Let me put it to you straight: I haven’t been in a committed relationship on VD Day since I was in first grade. That’s right, I peaked romantically at age six. Am I sad about it now? Not really. I had a lovely dinner last night with a good friend, and wine calms me and quiets me regardless of the occasion.
What I’d like to see, just once … ONE year on Valentine’s Day, is for everyone to just chill out. There’s so much pressure tied to the sweeping gestures, the size of the presents, the will-he-or-won’t-he-finally-pop-the-question? Take a breath, then a swig of whiskey, then a step back. Now, repeat after me: It’s not that serious.
Love and affection can be shown in so many ways. Do what you feel is special and romantic, if you want. Or don’t celebrate at all. But for fuck’s sake, there’s no need to post a 100-picture album of the roses, or tweet the exact contents of the card he sent.
And if all else fails, at least you’re not this guy:
Happy hangover, kids! My advice still applies, especially the day after … wrap it before you tap it.
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