I (Heart) V-Day!

There is one day a year which can be very unsettling for the single woman. That’s right ~ that Hallmark infested holiday we like to call Valentines Day. Or as I like to call it (this year), Black Thursday.

When not dating someone on V-Day, the anticipation alone can cause any woman to bury themselves in a “Gotta Love It” at the Cold Stone. Seriously, now that I think about it, why hasn’t Hershey’s or Hostess, or Little Debbie come up with the idea of free treats for singletons on Valentines Day? If those companies put their heads together, they could create a multi-million dollar campaign event for singles called, “Find Your Twinkie”. Basically, people would be matched up according to snack cake preferences. The way I see it, perhaps finding your soulmate based on character and values is not enough. So, why not try something new?

As a kid though, who didn’t love St. Valentine? In elementary school it was such an exciting day! A party! With candy, cakes, and cookies! We would all make pink and red hearted mailboxes to hang off our desks, and exchange those little 2x4 valentine cards that came in a box of twenty at the drugstore for $1.99. I remember in Kindergarten I couldn’t wait to get mine from my first true love, Aaron Hartman. Whatever happened to him? I wonder if he still likes Devil Dogs?

In high school, V-day started to get a little more complicated. By the time 9th grade rolled around, it was no longer a requirement that all students in the class had to exchange valentines. And that’s when I began to notice that Valentines Day was no longer all fun and games.

Each year, the Student Council at my school had an annual fundraiser in which people could buy roses to give to one another. Girlfriends, Boyfriends, Friends, Secret Admirers, etc… But, there was always that one or two kids in the class who didn’t get one and that sucked. It was usually the quiet, dorky-kid with the pocket-protector, who never forgot to have their book cover on. The one kid I am specifically thinking of is now head of cardiology at one of the leading cancer hospitals in the United States. Yeah, he is having the last laugh. Shit, hind-sight is 20/20. I should have sent him a DOZEN roses while I had the chance! Wonder how he feels about Ring Dings now?

I do though still have the first rose a boy ever gave me. Pressed and dried. I have good memories of those times. When things were… well, simple.

In college, serious boyfriends were sparse, but V-Day still came and went. One year my roommate and I went to see the movie Message in Bottle. There we were at the end, balling like WE had just lost Kevin Costner when I noticed people looking at us like we were “together”. The next year I found myself on line at the twenty-four hour Super K-Mart waiting until midnight struck so that I could load up on half price candy. (C’mon, you all know you’ve been there!). I distinctly remember my Senior year V-Day though. It was the grand-daddy of V-Days. My own mother sent me the sickest of all gifts, a “Grow a Date”. That’s right, the little sponge you throw in water and it grows into the size of a human. She might as well have sent me a freakin’ blow up doll. Although it was all in good humor, I really did not appreciate.

And so it goes…. Still looking for that eligible cupcake lover….

When I moved to NYC, I found myself during grad school working the most depressing of all jobs on such a day – delivering flowers. On any such Valentines Day I would probably make more than fifty deliveries. And none of them were for me. I remember one V-Day calling my current “crush” and asking what he was up to and he said, “Making dinner for my new woman.” Then he asked, “So, what are you up to?” And the dope that I was at the time said, “Delivering flowers.” I remember thinking to myself after hanging up the phone, “You are head over heals for this guy and you are delivering flowers?????? ON VALENTINES DAY!!! To other people!!!! YOU LOSER!!! Couldn’t you have just lied?? Couldn’t you have been having fondue and hot Hot HOT sex with a Ralph Lauren model on a bear-skinned rug or something???? ANYTHING!!!!???” DELIVERING FLOWERS!!!???? What were you thinking??? DUH!!!!!!! YOU Dumb DUMB ASS!" (As I beat the end of the phone on a nearby wall).

Ah, he didn’t like Moon Pies anyway.

For years following I did everything on the dreaded Black Day from playing the piano for the elderly, to cooking dinner for the handicapped, to babysitting for my friend’s kids who wanted to go out to dinner and “celebrate” their love. Now I realize ENOUGH is ENOUGH. Enough of feeling like I want to vomit at all those who get married or engaged on V-day. Enough of going into Target fearing I am going to get sucked into the red-hearted hole. On this V-Day, no more! While all the couples are out enjoying their pre-fix dinners, I am going to be having a little party of my own. I am going to embrace the things I love about this ridiculous made-up holiday. I am going to relax over an Entemenns Devil Food cake (with the pink sprinkles on top) and even out the edges until its just right. I am going to laugh my ass off at my annual Maxine card from my funny cousin in LA. And then, I am going to wait for the most special gift I receive each V-day, from the one man in my life who will always love me – my father. For thirty-two years, no matter where I live, or how far away from home I am, my Dad always sends me flowers on Valentines Day. It means the world to me and someday, when he is no longer here, it will be one of those special things I remember about him.

So, this year is my year! After my father’s flowers are placed just right, I am stepping out on this Black Thursday. I am putting on my fancy snow boots and taking myself out to my favorite restaurant in Chicago. I am sitting at the bar, confident and solo. I am ordering the most decadent piece of cake, and expensive glass of champagne it has to offer. And, as those around me celebrate the renewal of their love that night, I am celebrating the renewal of the one thing I love, ME! And maybe, just maybe, there will be a Suzie-Q lover sitting next to me.

Salute mon cheri!