Flowers are nice.
Candy is sweet…
A card is good if you write in it.
Some even buy jewelry.
Ahhh the day of heightened expectations; and shattered dreams.
What? Am I wrong? Bullshit. I am so right.. you just hate to admit it. Valentine’s Day is the one day of the year that ALL women expect their men to blow out of the water but no matter what they do, it’s never enough. Never. If it’s a dinner reservation, it’s not at the exact place you wanted. If it’s flowers you’re thinking,”They die. Really?” Or if it’s a card (which should be perfectly perfect) you are pissy…he didn’t use his words. And you’re waiting for the gift that goes with it. Ha.
When did Valentine’s Day become such a high-pressure holiday? And when did we as women get to be such spoiled little brats?
Ok, simmer down bitches.
Not ALL of you. I like to speak in gross exaggerations. Big numbers. Obviously, it’s not the whole dang lot of ya. Some of you are sweet and kind. You are thankful when your man pulls up on Valentine’s Day with a bag of champagne gummy bears and takes you to Outback. But others are just flat out entitled these days. I hear y’all talking at the nail salon, and the bar. Nasty-ass little things. You expect so much; when is it ever going to be enough?
Poor guys, we have the bar raised so damn high there’s no way to ever clear it.
And February the Fourteenth comes at the same exact time every, single year. Yet for some reason, the anxiety starts to build somewhere around New Year’s Eve. I mean Even Target has the red-heart shaped shit out already. In fact, I think they put it out the day after the ball drops. Fuck, it’s insanity. I’m not gonna lie, I knew exactly what I was doing on the 14th the first week in January. I did! I admit it. I was like,”Hey babe, Ummm are you going to be in town on the 14th?” I was totally testing him.; I am an asshole. I knew it was Valentine’s Day, and I was setting him up!
He goes,”Um Jen, I have no clue. It’s a month away.”
FAIL! I lost my fucking guts.
“Well, great. So we are not going to be together on Valentine’s Day?” So he says,”Well, of course, we are, Jen! Was I supposed to know the 14th of next month was Valentine’s Day right fucking now?” Ha. And you can imagine the rest. Poor fella, he deserves a medal. But as you can see, it’s just so stressful! And we do it to ourselves. Women plan and plot. We just want it to be something spectacular! Or in the least, we want to be with the person we love the most. But come on, Y’all. Check it. Remember, It’s only a dumb holiday. One night, one day.
I am getting Number Thirteen something good for sure.
No, something GREAT. (And red.)
But really, I think this whole damn thing is getting totally out of hand. I just saw an article about what women really want for Valentine’s Day and just about pissed myself. One, because it’s not what all women really want. And two, because there’s a really cool pair of sneakers on the list that I must have. But the “hottest” gift for this year? Drumroll, please! An Espresso Maker in red. A fucking fancy-ass espresso machine in a deep red-hue. Really? What happened to dinner and a dozen roses? Next on the list? How about this one, a pair of pink sparkly UGG slippers. Or one of my favorites, a Kindle. A Kindle for Valentine’s Day. Oh, good. Buy my book, it’s only $2 now on Amazon! Shit. When did this Hallmark holiday transform into Christmas? Did it morph into Hanukkah and someone forgot to tell me? Because when a piece of PINK TUMI Luggage makes the Hottest Valentine’s Day list for 2018 I have a serious fucking problem.
Candy, flowers…and cards. Perfect.
Ugh.Who am I kidding? If a opened a box with a pair of RED bottom heel-highs in it on Wednesday night, I wouldn’t be saying,”Oh no! I just can’t…take them back!” I would say,”Thank you.” And then I would slip those babies on, take everything else, off…and poof! Happy Valentine’s Day Number Thirteen. ;)