Tag Archives: why valentine’s day sucks

Guest Blogger Thor: Still single this Valentine’s Day? This article is for you!


I’m a woman of a certain age. I’m single. I have no children. I contemplated naming my dog Malbec (“Gin and Tonic” was just a cry for help, besides being a mouthful). I have a weekly date with Downton Abbey.

In short, I’m a demographic stereotype.

1valentines_day_sucks1With that in mind, and Valentine’s Day and a blank sheet of “paper” before of me, you’d be safe in assuming that I’ll  rail against the coming holiday. And of course, if I were to rant, it’d be because V-Day is commercialized, heteronormative, patriarchal, and sappy. My rant would have nothing to do with that fact that on Feb. 14 I’ll be eating a Lean Cuisine of a TV tray while I catch up on celebrity couplings.

Nothing at all.

I love Valentine’s Day. In fact, it inspires me to look back at my (mostly online) dating history in the last few years, which I’ve conveniently distilled into some broad categories.

Uterus Shoppers: I like to know that a man values me. And if it’s because of an organ I have, all the better. I get sick of men asking about my beliefs, and my background, and what I do with my time off. Blah blah blah. Uterus Shoppers cut to the chase. Their emails are succinct. It may be, “I want a woman with a healthy body. Are you ready to start a family?” Or, a little more conversational, “I love children, and I want more. How are you?” I find this charming. I’m in no way creeped out by somebody I don’t know suggesting we are intimate, then participate in one of life’s most profound experiences which later results in a person!

– Bait ‘n Switchers: These fellas, they keep me on my toes! They’re very spontaneous. One minute they’re looking for a serious relationship, and the next, they don’t have room for anything serious in their life. My favorite part, though, is they’re always open to hanging out casually with no expectations. One might expect this devil-may-care attitude from men in their 20s, but when it comes from men in their 40s, it’s downright adorable.

-The Jokesters: I love these guys. From the men who make “sexually knowledgeable” a requirement on eHarmony, to quirky and lovable introduction emails – “Hi there! Here is a good topic, that seems able to get just about everybody to fly off their hinge and take a giant leap away from their good senses: Abortion. Not only is it a fun word to say like ‘guacamole’ or ‘incandescent’, but it’s a topic everybody loves to weigh in on. So, what say you?” – to the man wearing as his main profile picture a T-shirt that reads, “I am the man from Nantucket,” to the guy who picked me up for our first date wearing a Fender T-shirt that read, “Chicks Dig My Lick.” The absolute, hands-down  winner in The Jokester category goes to the guy below, with his witty profile headline. At the end of his profile he challenges women to get in touch with him to find out the punch line. As I’ve hung out with some sick, ribald and juvenile folk in my time, I knew the punch line- it’s about incest.

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Other categories include The Sex Kittens: Yes, men, please post and/or send photos of you lounging about seductively!; the Hannibal Lecters: Any hint you might kill me really gets my blood racing; the Partners In Crime: All guys want this, apparently; and the Anti-Marketers: “I want somebody to sit around and watch TV with.” Of course, the categories are not exhaustive but I keep on keepin’ on because why settle down when I get all this?

Did you enjoy this?  You might also enjoy last years Valentine’s Day rant by another guest blogger: Why Valentine’s Day Sucks. Written by a person who hates Valentine’s Day.

Why Valentine’s Day sucks, Written by a person that hates Valentine’s day.


Note: This update is by a person who REALLY, REALLY hates Valentine’s day. I’m rather blah about Valentine’s Day. On one hand there is yummy candy, on the other hand it’s retarded (not as badly as Xmas but still). She hates it so much that she asked that I not use her real name, for fear of angering the Valentine’s day lobby or something. This is the first of what I hope (cause I don’t have to do very much work) are a few guest writers.

Without further ado here’s Why Valentine’s Day sucks …

She is correct ... Valentine's Day does suck.

Here we go again… You know, one of the many holidays throughout the year created, I’m convinced, to remind me that I’m still single. Well, not single… DIVORCED! Which at 26, is 10 times worse. I will never be single again. I now have a nice little label that follows me around everywhere I go, laughing in my face, occasionally reminding me of my epic failure of a marriage and insisting that I will never, ever, be happy again. So, enter Valentine’s Day, a holiday that even when I was married, I hated…

The Golden Rule

I really like the concept of treating others as you would like to be treated. So much so, that I exercised this rule in my marriage, particularly on Valentine’s Day. My then husband was not much of a romantic, so to show him how I would like to be treated on Valentine’s Day, I sent flowers and balloons to HIM… at work. That may have been my first mistake, as I have been told that I have a tendency to emasculate men, but that’s another story.

So, I figure, that if I did this, he would naturally come to the conclusion that he should do something similar for me on special occasions, something very public. I am a huge fan of public displays of affection, and not just the kind that involve boinking in a bar bathroom. I know that some people believe that special moments should be private, and to those people I say, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, did it make a sound? I am incredibly insecure, and I want, on special occasions like Valentine’s Day, for everyone I know to see that there is somebody that thinks I’m awesome and loves me and wants me to have like 20 of his babies… I want to proudly display two dozen roses and a big stupid teddy bear on my desk at work for one fucking day… So sue me.

Anyway, that whole treat him how I would like to be treated really worked out for me… That’s why I’m divorced, not single. However, being divorced on Valentine’s Day isn’t any better…

Red Suede Shoes

Nothing says I love you like shaving a heart into your hairy back!

So, my second Valentine’s Day as a divorcee is the reason why I loathe first dates. In my opinion, asking someone out for a first date and scheduling said date ON Valentine’s Day is pretty fucking ballsy. I tried to remain optimistic, even though the invitation came via Facebook… from a bald lawyer, who happened to be a captain in the Army. I had recently been on several first dates, with several different Captains, and came to the conclusion that in order to reach that rank, you needed to 1) Cry frequently in public, 2) Be balding at the age of 30, and 3) Have a really, really, really small penis. Really. So, I was impressing myself with my optimism. He was using words like “epic” and “unforgettable” when describing our evening. So what does a girl do? Honey, I bought the sexiest little black dress and some new knee high boots. I was determined to make THIS Valentine’s Day my bitch…

And after walking around in the freezing cold, in heels and said little black dress, for 45 minutes because a certain someone failed to make a reservation, my optimism slowly deteriorated. Finally finding a hole in the wall, that I was clearly over dressed for and being asked, by my lawyer date, about how my divorce paperwork was handled over a sub-par dinner, I succumbed to the fact that this was probably NOT my year for a memorable Valentine’s Day.

So, at the end of the evening, when my date said he had almost had enough wine to get up the courage to kiss me… You will completely understand why I told him he should have some water.

So, this year, I officially give up the idea of romance on this Hallmark holiday and instead will from now on give two, very nicely manicured, middle fingers to St. Valentine. (Well, at least until I meet an amazing man that will treat me how I want to be treated… Then I’m totally hopping back on the bandwagon.