Tuesday, February 14, 2012

I love...

...when you shut the hell up.

You do realize that all of you screeching about Valentine's Day being a Hallmark holiday from hell are just as annoying as the lovey-dovey Cupidlickers, right?

I know, I know, I'm a member of that special married people's club now and, ergo, “the enemy” in this sort of Jets vs. Sharks set-up that's evolved over the years when it comes to Valentine's Day, but my memory is fucking long, brothers and sisters. I had myself almost 37 years of watching as seemingly everyone but me was getting flowers and candy and singing telegrams and Satan's scrotesuckers on February 14 and the world was against me and everyone hated me and I was eating worms (yes, I was on the hunt from BIRTH).

Then there came a point (while I was still single, mind you) that I had myself a moment of clarity and realized it was time to get over my goddamned self. No, it didn't mean that I stopped being unhappy about being single (though that too eventually went away – WHILE I WAS STILL SINGLE), but I stopped being that “fuck you, Valentine's Day is BULLSHIT and everyone who celebrates it is BULLSHIT and it's all meaningless and STUPID and FAUX and *takes a long drag on a French cigarette and adjusts beret*” person because at some point, I realized I was complaining about a single day of the year that had absolutely no significant impact on my life whatsoever. Well, unless I wanted to get dinner reservations for that night.

Gooey couples who are crazed about Valentine's Day aren't rotten, stupid people who are capitalist tools. They're just people who have decided they're going to be gooey and crazed about Valentine's Day, and then they continue being gooey well after Valentine's Day has concluded. If you're fretting about being single, you're going to continue fretting about it well after Valentine's Day has concluded. The inequity in society that celebrates coupledom and gives the side-eye to singledom wouldn't magically disappear if Valentine's Day was stricken from the universe. It would be replaced by some other silly-ass day and it would be called...YeeHaw Couple Day or Whoop Whoop You'd Better Get Married Or You're a Failure Day. While society would like you to believe that you're somehow less than because you're single, you are more than welcome to give society a well-toned finger of the middle variety. There is no law that decrees you must be decrepit, sad and angry 100 percent of the time when you're single, just as there is no law that decrees you will find your ultimate lovemuffin, just as there is no law that decrees you'll be blissful and complete should you find your ultimate lovemuffin. It's the nature of the beast. Our world is really hot on “fate” and “happy endings” for all because that shit sells magazines, movies, books, diet plans, and all sorts of other lies. I would not sell many self-help books because the chapter about love and long-term relationships would be “Eh, it might not happen, so it's in your best interest to make your life as entertaining and adventurous as you can because it can be entertaining and adventurous flying solo as it can be with a long-term partner”.

SIDEBAR: The rotten, stupid people are the ones who lord their coupledom, who think they're made of magic and unicorn because they've found someone to rut with on a regular basis, and who dole out those awful platitudes about there being an ass for every saddle and how you have to stop looking and all that wretched goddamned shit that just made me want to kick people in the fucking face whenever they'd drop that science on me. Those are people that you should be directing your ire at, not the regular goofs who are all “I MUST HAVE FLOWERS SENT TO MY OFFICE” or whatever.

SIDEBAR THE SECOND: Seriously, though, if you want something from your sugarpuss on Valentine's Day, fucking say something. Don't play douchey games where you sigh, “Oh, I don't need/want anything, pookums!” and then stew when Sugarpuss Pookums takes you at your word. And then don't ascribe that game-playing bullshit to an entire gender because ho boy, that makes you an even bigger mope who perhaps needs to audit a few more classes at Grown Fucking Adult University.

SIDEBAR THE TH—just kidding.

ANYWAY. In short, as William Murray once said in the epic moving picture, “Stripes”: Lighten up, Francis. If you think Valentine's Day's a sack of shit, GREAT. If you spend hours contemplating what the perfect evening/gift for Sugarpuss Pookums is, GREAT. One or the other doesn't make you intellectually superior or better or cooler. It's your personal choice and it's totally valid. Just be assured that your railing against the Valentine's Day Cabal is just as eyeroll-inducing as Miffy and Stupendouspants cooing about how awesome their love is (which they also tweet about and Facebook about and FourSquare about) while eating overpriced fondue.