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February 8, 2013

How to Not End Up With a Handful of Dog Poop on Valentine’s Day. ~ Anne Clendening

You know the expression, “Come Valentine’s Day, Bitchy Girls End Up With Crap In The Hand?”

Of course you don’t. I just made it up.

One. It’s one of the lowest numbers in the world, says my very smart and bitter friend Frankie. No wonder people like him want nothing to do with the day for duos. In any case, Valentine’s Day can be seen in two ways: either it’s a day for you and yours to celebrate your relationship and the sweet, mutual affection you have for each other, or it’s just a bullshit, manufactured feel-good holiday of epic proportions (and I grudgingly use the word holiday). Some say acknowledging it with cards and flowers just feeds the massive machine, disguising the true significance of partnering and diminishing the one precious thing in this world to a cyber-expression of regard called an e-card complete with an unoriginal, boring image and equally boring caption. Good luck ya’ll, because there’s one thing for sure, it sure does bring out the worst in certain chicks:

“He better do something sweet for me on Valentine’s.

If he doesn’t do something special, I might have to cheat on him.”

We’ve been seeing each other two weeks! He got his mom flowers on Valentine’s and didn’t get me anything? What an asshole!

These are actual words from people I know. Seriously, it’s hard to believe guys have to put up with this nonsense.

Everyone wants love, to be in love, to have someone to spend your days with who adores you so freakin’ much they actually want to spend eternity with you. Even the serial killer Richard Ramirez was inundated by scads of letters with marriage proposals since he was locked up over 20 years ago; one lucky gal even snagged him after more than 70 letters—there’s actually a “Mrs. Night Stalker.” Apparently the guy had time enough in prison to go through all that correspondence; I seriously don’t think the self-proclaimed spawn of Satan was very busy going for his Master’s in Mathematical Engineering.

Let’s see if this little scenario rings true: You’ve been seeing someone, you really dig each other and it’s your very first Valentine’s together. Finally it’s your turn, after all those lonely February 14ths, all those times you listened to your friends brag about their happy relationships, all those “Black Hearts” parties where you had to act like you didn’t care about being alone and feeling pathetic.

I know how you feel. I’ve had my share of wallowing and cocktailing on the dreaded day I used to call “Red Death Day.” (I know, so dramatic.)  There’s been tears, fists in the air and curses aimed at happy couples with their pre-planned dinner menus for two consisting of a lovely pistashio-encrusted salmon on a bed of herb risotto followed by a very special chocolate creme bruleé with a Gran Marnier infused caramel drizzle, perhaps paired with a nice, plum-y aperitif of your choice. (Did I mention I used to wait tables on such occasions?) Other desperate measures, none of which I can bring myself to repeat, amounted to nothing.

I’m tellin’ ya, life hands you beans when you annoy everyone like a hellish bitch on wheels.

I’ve seen it all, and done about half. The hinting around how beautiful roses are by the dozen, or the need to make dinner reservations super early on busy nights and holidays, or don’t you think a weekend getaway to the desert would be nice?

Girlfriend, this kind of thing will get you nowhere. Here’s some advice, Miss Lonely Hearts 2013: if you want your man to make a big deal out of love on Valentine’s Day, the thing is, he probably will if you just let him. The stores have only been shoving Valentine’s stuff down our gullets since the beginning of January. Your pushiness only suggests he’s too stupid to get all cute and figure stuff out on his own. You’re not doing yourself any favors being such a nagging baby, and there are much more effective ways to get what you want.

Get creative and get naked. Turn the heat down on that pressure cooker, Betty Crocker, because one day out of the year doesn’t amount to much. How does he treat you the rest of the year? Is he a cheating douche bag who’s just trying to buy himself immunity for the other 364 days? I’d rather have a man who’s in love with me when I’m dressed like a frumpy hag on my day off, who knows what color roses I like and who has never found the need to express his undying passion with a gift card to Sephora on Valentine’s Day.

Yeah, we all want love. True love. It’s the answer to almost every question…

The sky is blue because of love. It’s why water drains clockwise and why the air is so crisp when it’s about to rain. Love makes watches tick, firemen cute and papier maché hold it’s shape. It’s the best thing ever. It’s Coke in a bottle.

So be sweet, my fallen angel. Enjoy the day. When you wake up on the 15th, be cool. Remember what I made up about, oh, about half an hour ago: No One Likes The Smell Of Dog Poop.

 

Like elephant love on Facebook.

 

Ed: Kate Bartolotta

Hot Chick: Samantha Percival. Black Eye: BrianAtwoodOfficial. Fallen Cupid: Shin Miura.

 

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