Uh-oh. Here it comes. I've just had my first altercation with Valentine's Day as a single girl. And I'm sure I'll be attacked many, many times before February 14th actually arrives.
Today, My MSN was kind enough to inform me that it has ways I can secure a date before V-Day. Not to say that all the advice was bad (I clicked on it purely for the purposes of this posting), but I can still feel the sting from the slap the article delivered. Its teaser beckoned: "Gals: Finding a Date Before Feb. 14." And I took the bait.
The first few suggestions were preposterous. Take up an outdoor sport. I'm fairly sure this involves abandoning my heels, and my stilettos and I are not parting ways, even for a moment. Especially in the winter. And yes, even if it means I could meet a really great guy. MSN also advised that I "ask around" and try looking online for that special someone. Not to make excuses, but Milford is fresh out of available (read: desirable) men, and I just haven't quite accepted the idea of resorting to online searches. Eliminating these three suggestions leaves me with the run-of-the-mill advice to take the plunge, turn that frown upside down, and keep on truckin'. But that's nothing I haven't heard before. In the three months since my boyfriend of three-and-a-half years and I broke up, every friend, family member, coworker and customer has bestowed upon me these nuggets of wisdom. But I know these things already. I know the breakup was for the best...I know I'll met the guy I'm supposed to be with...I know it'll all work out in the end. But that doesn't make the prospect of my first solo V-Day any more bearable.
I've spent a lot of time making myself okay with the fact that I'm single. I've spent the last six years of my life in relationships, and getting used to not being someone's other half is no small task to undertake. So it feels like I've been beat up when I open a magazine that screams "Romantic Getaway Ideas," "How to Spice Up Your Valentine's Day," or worse, "SINGLE? How To Land a Man in Three Easy Steps!!!!" Just when I thought I was really getting the hang of the whole single thing, women's magazines unite to beat me about the head with the fact that I'm single.
Look at all of these happy couples adorning our pages! Slap! Don't you wish YOU were part of one? I bet you do. Punch to the face! And you know what? We're here to help you! Kick to the groin. You know that stuff we've been saying all year about how being single is great? Those were lies. Headbutt! The only way you're ever REALLY going to be happy is by being in love. Punch to the gut! You should change yourself. Because we both know that's why you're still single. Karate Chop! I mean, you're obviously doing something wrong - So go ahead and try one of our suggestions: Change your hair! Learn about his favorite sport! Be sexy, wear lingerie, and give him head! Don't put up a fight when he wants to hang out with his boys! Wear less makeup, or wear more! Don't look like you want him, but let him know you do! Slap! Kick! Punch! Combination blow to the head and knee to the ribs!
I don't even have a defense. I'm in love with love, and I'd love to be in love on the holiday that celebrates it. So I don't even put my arms up to protect vital organs when Cosmo, Glamour and Allure ban together to assault me. I just take it like a bitch.
But I know it's bound to pass. The beating will cease as February Fourteenth finds me licking my wounds while drinking Vodka and Cranberry Juice, dancing at a gay bar, and feeling utterly fabulous. Even with a black eye.