Sometime when I wasn't looking, Valentine's Day metamorphosed from a C-list kids' holiday, with pink and red candy and construction-paper hearts, into a relationship extravaganza.
Though some singles have to endure commentary from family and friends of the when-are-you-going-to-settle-down variety, our harshest critics are ourselves: If only I was thinner/had bigger boobs/smaller thighs/got Botox/bought $400 shoes/had slept with him/hadn’t slept with him, I wouldn't be single.
But in fact, there are many worse things than going solo on February 14th. Like a couple of years ago when I had a blind date on Valentine's Day. The guy ranted the whole night about taxes (romantic, huh?), except when he interrupted himself to correct me when I asked for chopsticks in a Thai restaurant. "Thais don't use chopsticks," he informed me, oozing condescension. "Um, we're not in Thailand," I retorted. (I didn't actually retort, but I did think it. Unfortunately, it wasn't until about 20 minutes later.)
While I don't want to be single forever, it's a lot better than being with jerks who are also chopstick purists. And until Mr. Non-Jerk comes along, I’ve discovered there are a lot of consolations to being alone on Valentine’s Day:
1. Not having to fake it when you get that trademark long white box.
I know red roses are supposed to be the ultimate romantic gesture (or actually, the second most romantic gesture, after that little velvet box with a ring in it), but has anyone else noticed? They're hideous! And since the poor guy shelled out a 200 percent premium to get you them on Valentine's Day, you need to be Meryl Streep to fake that much appreciation. And let's face it, I'm not that good an actress. I'd rather just buy my own flowers.
Read the other four reasons here…
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