Close up Hands Tea x

Sit a bit and hear some observational stories I’ve been steeping.

Stupid Cupid.

Valentine’s Day has come and gone and, for some, telling it to not let the door hit it in the rump on the way out is putting it mildly.  Made-up holiday or not, it does for one solitary day bring one’s focus to the subject of L.O.V.E. which I’ve found can be a sticky wicket for… well, everyone.


If you have a sweetheart on February 14th then most people think you’ve got it made.  There are no worries about who you’re snuggling up to, your spot is reserved.  But, for said sweethearts there is an ugly pressure that leads up to Valentine’s Day that can be intense and uncomfortable, too.  Where to go (or DO you go) for dinner?  Did you make reservations/order heart-shaped pizza/shop for groceries in time?  Is jewelry going to be expected?  Must new outfits be procured?  I’ve known people married or in long-term relationships, some for decades, who still stress over the details of it.  They can’t help it.  Every media source and shopping facility known to man (the ads do seem skewed to appeal to them most) is put on high-alert in the days preceding it and even the least romantic among you cannot ignore The Day.


For those who don’t have someone to call up and call their own, the Hallmark Holiday can be seven kinds of wrong: 1) Disappointing 2) Disheartening 3) Depressing 4) Delusional 5) Demeaning 6) Detrimental 7) Dumb — Actually there are a whole lot more, but we’ll stick with the D’s for now.  Honestly, I rally for those who have taken to calling it Single Awareness/Appreciation Day or Anti-Valentine’s Day (though I’m not a fan of the more distasteful V.D) and those that throw antagonistic shindigs with signature cocktails (“Party of One” and “Future Ex” among them).  I truly < heart > these folks that are taking love’s lemons and making the proverbial lemonade (with our without vodka) and making the best of it.  Or fun of it, at any rate.


Either way, you can all relax now, people.  Those conversation candy hearts can be safely put away until next year.  Or the year after that.  Or until you have a reason to use them down the road.  In fact, go ahead and tuck those babies into your In Case of Emergency disaster kit.  Because, I’m pretty sure those cute, seemingly innocent, pastel rock-hard little buggers have no expiration date.  They’ve all just been in circulation since Watergate.  Doubt me?  Well, when’s the last time you used the word “boogie” in casual everyday talk time (and if so, you might want to buff up and update your verbal skills a smidge before next February.  Just sayin’).  Just be grateful that there is no blue ink “Use By…” date stamped upon your heart.  You still have 364 other perfectly good days to express (or find) your love.  Candy hearts not required.


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