STUPID VALENTINE’S DAY. Even the Reeses commercials are annoying the shit out of me. And I LOVE peanut butter cups, arguably more than my car. So why does the media, my favorite candy, and every relationship I know go totally insane leading up to Valentine’s day? This wretched holiday is rooted in a pagan celebration where women line up to get whipped by men in the hopes of finding fertility and love. And although this sounds like the stuff of Chris Brown’s dreams (it’s never too soon for Chris Brown jokes I fucking hate him), this holiday has evolved to a frenzied clusterfuck that leads to 1 of 2 options: break-ups or engagements.
Option #1: Break-ups
So, you and your lovah (ewww) made it through the holidays in one piece. She didn’t embarrass you at your aunt’s house on Thanksgiving, and he actually kept it together long enough on Christmas at your mom’s to not hit on your underage cousin again… what a keeper. New Year’s Eve was lukewarm at best, and after you cleaned her projectile vomit off the walls, you think, “Okay… she owes me, she better step up her game.” RED FLAG, BRO. If she “owes” you, you’ve been out of the relationship for a while. Tallying is for yard games with cheap beer, not relationships. Anyways, even if she should, she doesn’t step up her game. She doesn’t step up shit. You both devolve into yourselves and start acting single, even when you are out on dates. He starts getting other guys’ numbers while you are in the bathroom (read: blowing another guy), and before you know it, its February and FUCK! Not another week of gifts. When did greeting cards become so expensive? Does Papyrus make their envelopes out of *actual* Egyptian manuscript? Bail now. Be messy and single for St. Paddy’s Day and Cinco de Mayo, the two most drunkenly sexy holidays of our age. And by the way, those vomits stains on the ceiling aren’t coming out, so forget about your deposit.
Option #2: Engagements
WAS THERE A SALE AT ZALES?! Everyone’s puttin’ a goddamn ring on it. And why not? You made it through the holidays together! You dealt with her crazy family and his creepy uncle that kept pouring extra vodka in your cocktail and leaning in to smell your hair. You sat through 463 pictures of her sister’s trip to Greece and smiled the whole way through. Why? Because you’re in love, stupid. You got fat together over the holidays, and when January 1st hit, you both join the gym together, because you’re going to be healthy dammit! (Secretly, you’re thinking… I better lose weight if I’m going to be single ever again.) But then it hits you… you are actually in love. And what better week to propose? Its the week that all your desperate single friends who see the sparkly ring on Facebook can be just a tad more suicidal. Kisses, guys. I want an invite… unless it’s a dry wedding or you’re straight.
Okay, okay…. there is a 3rd option… wait it out for the gifts, but don’t get engaged. This is tricky. Too serious a gift, and shit gets weird. Not serious enough of a gift, and no one gets laid. Regardless of the gift you choose, no gift is as special as the gift I received last year… getting cheated on.
And I don’t want to go on that “God Bless the Broken Road” bullshit or anything, but I am more happy than I ever thought possible in a relationship. I am lucky enough to have landed an incredible, intelligent, general bad-ass of a girlfriend who indulges my quirks and would carry my emotional baggage through the length of LaGuardia. Plus, she just brought me a cocktail because she “thought I might need one.” I know, right?! Total win. I guess I don’t have any real advice if you are at home on Thursday night, watching the season premiere of Swamp People, and a Kay Jewelers commercial appears, except maybe this: Remember… you will always wake up, every morning, look in the mirror, and realize: “Hey, I’m not Chris Brown.” And for that, my friend… YOU deserve a Reeses.