My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose. And I? Am A Little Thorny.

Yes, yes, to some extent I’m a *cough* hearts and flowers kind of girl *cough*. I totally just tried to cover up that statement up with the “loser cough.”  You know the one you used to do as a kid (*cough* loser! *cough*) to another kid you didn't like?  Well I didn't do that but you probably did.  Anyway, moving onward……...
 
OK first off, a big hearty fuck you to whoever commercialized Valentine's Day. And I'd like for you all to know that right now as you’re reading this, I’m flipping the bird to my uterus for producing the vast amounts of estrogen that pump through my veins and make me buy into that bullshit.  Let’s do a comparison shall we?  

Valentine’s : Vagina  

Conspiracy!!!  Just sayin’.  Also, my favorite colors are red and pink, not because of the stupid holiday, I've just always been drawn to “hot” colors.  Not only that but because of my heart condition, naturally, hearts are my favorite symbol.  Hearts! What can I say?  They’re my thing.  So of course, as the Valentine’s merchandise begins to flow, I longingly look at all of the cheesy little pink and red heart themed crap that’s sold up and down every aisle of every store you walk in to.  And then above and beyond my natural draw towards all things girly and hearts and flowers, a sneaky little tendril starts in my head about wanting to receive something from someone on Valentine’s.  So here’s a PSA, listen up dudes!  Every girl, I don’t care how nonchalant they act about Valentine’s hopes to get something from you.  Seriously, I don’t care if the girl has declared it as the cheesiest, crappiest, most stupid reason for a holiday that ever was.  She wants something.  Maybe not even a huge something, but a something.

In an attempt to overcome the hope, I've often wrestled with the reasoning myself.  Perhaps it’s that competitive force that drives women to form into cliques at the age puberty hits and along that similar thought process, some of us continue to have mental competitions with every woman in our heads for the rest of our lives.  These are imagined underlying competitions that drive us to mentally keep tabs on how we are beating other women in some area or some facet of life.  Seriously.  It’s got to be buried deep in our primitive psyche.   Because really, there’s almost nothing quite like that feeling of having flowers delivered to us at work and then mentally giving every other woman in the office the finger and shouting at them in your head “THAT’S right BITCHES!  Take a looooooong look!  Somebody cares about/loves/wants to bang ME!  That’s right, ME!” 

Then of course, there are just those sappy women who think love is all about romance and courting during the entire span of a relationship/marriage, which it’s not.  It’s hard fucking work that morphs from the initial lust/love feeling and turns into a struggle to stay committed. But most women can’t get a clue on that.  I've seen women get outright angry that they don’t get anything on the day.  Especially if their dude doesn't give them anything otherwise, they see THAT cursed day as the day it’s an expected opportunity to pony up.  Then there are those of us that get crushed by not getting something.  And of course the 3^rd category which is sort of a two parter – the women that laugh it off/seem to blow it off as no big deal but then go home at the end of the day and sob into a pint of ice cream or eat a whole cake to make it better.  And watch out dudes, because you will pay for it.  There could be sulking or potentially passive aggressive behavior and it could hit at any point during the year.  And it will hit at some point – the feeling of worthlessness festers and women harbor that shit.  I've seen it.
 
But if your woman is worth her salt she’ll throw you some tang for jumping through the hoops of getting her something because that’s what getting a chick a gift is all about for you guys anyway, right?  While purchasing, I imagine you’re thinking, "how much tang could this possibly get me and is she going to bring her A game to the bedroom for it?"  

My coolest Valentine’s memory?  First grade; we had a teacher who was WAY into Valentine’s, did the whole Valentine’s card exchange thing in class and made the day a total blow off (of course, this was 1^st grade but still.)  The day was filled with music, videos, and a huge buffet of pink and red frosted confections to snack on ALLLLLLLL day.  As soon as I stepped off of the school bus, I ran to my outside trash can and projectile vomited Pepto-Bismol pink sludge everywhere.  It was so awesome, and yet so fitting of the years of V-Days to follow.

The moral of this story?  Get some tang – It’s almost V-Day, after all.