Here’s my take, from a single person’s perspective, on Valentine’s Day. It ran in today’s Red and Black.
It’s that time of year again.
That one holiday of the year that’s as beloved and as hated as the New York Yankees — Valentine’s Day.
And in holiday terms, as in life, I’m not a Yankees fan.
For me, Valentine’s Day is the crème de la crap of holidays.
Elementary school gave me the delusion that Valentine’s Day was a fun celebration of friendship. Everyone gave everyone a Valentine covered with Disney Princesses or Dragon Ball Z. People attached bags of “MARRY ME” Sweethearts or heart-shaped chocolates to the top.
Those days are gone.
Now, Valentines are tarnished by the faces of Justin Bieber and Hannah Montana.
And though the lovers of love dress in red and pink, jaded and lonely people wear black.
What was once an awesome day of shoe-mail-boxes and cupcakes has become a day of mourning.
I dread walking through the Kroger Karnival of Sadness and the Target Aisle of Misery, where heaps of Valentine’s Day candy are a reminder that I won’t be getting any heart-shaped boxes this year.
Saint Valentine is as much the patron saint of love as he is the patron saint of body issues and online dating sign-ups.
But this year, instead of blasting Celine Dion’s “Because You Loved Me” next to a bottle of Chardonnay and crying myself to sleep, I’m not going to sweat it.
I’ve been Melissa “Table for One” Buckman since the day I was born.
I’m used to single-dom. So why not handle Valentine’s Day like it was any other day?
Today, I’m enjoying my chocolate delights.
No one at Edible Arrangements is going to ask me who I am. They won’t ask what my relationship is with the person to whom I send my chocolate-dipped strawberry bouquet.
And they definitely won’t know the delivery address is the address of my apartment.
Today, I’m enjoying time with single friends.
We can congregate, binge a little and celebrate the love we have for one another. It’s more fun to share our fears of becoming cat ladies and spinsters than it is to listen to our non-single friends complain about what their boyfriends did wrong.
Today, I’m saving money.
All that candy no one buys goes on sale the next day — and the Karnival of Sadness and Aisle of Misery turn into pre-St. Patty’s pots of gold. I will hit the register without shame — sweets in hand — and save a few cents.
And I can savor my sweet tooth until Easter, a (thankfully) relationship-neutral holiday, comes around.
Today, I’m celebrating being single.
Staying on the market in what will likely be the most social four years of my life has not been terrible. I didn’t come into college looking for an MRS degree — and it still hasn’t climbed higher on my to-do list. Believe it or not, spending my time at the University not on the prowl for a life partner has had its perks.
On this Valentine’s Day, I’ll skip the Celine and listen to Destiny’s Child’s “Independent Woman.”
I’ll celebrate the advantages of being single — and still get a dose of the good old days.
And a Screw You, I’m Hilarious bonus: