Quick! What’s the best reason not to date me? If you said Valentine’s Day you are absolutely correct! Although to be fair, depending on your point of view that’s either an easy question or a trick one; because of course, it’s also the only conceivable reason not to. Therefore, if you guessed right then, oh you know me so well; and if you guessed otherwise, not to worry … I’m sure you’ll get up to speed on your Lesbiana trivia shortly..
So while many face the mid-point of this short, cold month lamenting the fact that they’ll be spending the lover’s holiday alone … well, the many who don’t live in this part of California where the sun is shining and it’s a balmy 75 degrees outside (sorry, but the rules and regulations of this state require that we report our magnificent weather whenever an opportunity presents itself … I don’t rub it in because I want to, I do it because I have to), it’s a day on which I celebrate my single status with a sigh of relief. Very simply put, I suck at Valentine’s Day.
I don’t know if I’m missing the romantic bone altogether or if something went awry developmentally due to an abundance or lack of chromosomes, but I don’t do cute and cuddly or grand gestures or sincere heartfelt expressions. It has nothing to do with taking a stance against the notion that this is the one day of the year where my declaration of love or affection must be done with ultimate perfection lest I run the risk of ruining a current or blossoming relationship forever. But, if it did have anything to do with that, I probably would take that stance because who the hell are the card and candy and flower conglomerates to tell me that they know better than I how to express my feelings and that I can’t do it without lining their pockets with my hard earned cash? That’s fucking bullshit man!
Anyway, I’m not good at receiving standard Valentine’s Day gifts because they’re so specific I don’t know what to do with them post-holiday. It seems a little like what would happen if we had a National Gag Gift Day. The holiday would be a hullabaloo of hilarious hi-jinks as we delighted in singing along with wall-mounted fish, toasting each other with drinks chilled by penis-shaped ice cubes, wearing FBI (Federal Boobie Inspector) t-shirts and embarrassing co-workers with fart machines affixed to their desk chairs. Then the next day we’d wake up surrounded by a bunch of crap that would be shoved into the backs of closets, because they were gifts so you can’t just throw them away; but what the hell are you supposed to do with plastic vomit and ceramic dog poo after NGG Day?
Once in my younger days I’d started dating a girl early into a new year. So when Valentine’s Day rolled around we were at that awkward stage of not really being a couple, but seeing each other often enough that the holiday had to be recognized. After overhearing another person talking about it, I went out and purchased a single red rose for her. And not the grocery store kind … I went to a florist and got her one that when sold by the dozen I couldn’t afford, but when purchased alone made me think to myself, “Holy shit! That much for one flower??” But I bought it anyway because if I was going to steal someone else’s idea, I was at least going to be classy about it. Also, if she hated it or was allergic to roses or something, it was just a flower and would be dead and trash-worthy in a couple of days … no muss, no fuss.
When she showed up at my apartment to do whatever young lesbians did back then that seemed romantic (probably light some candles, drink cheap champagne, pop Desert Hearts into the VCR and have sex), I presented her with my single, sophisticated rose. She handed me a little stuffed bear with red horns and a cape, holding a pitchfork and a tiny, heart-shaped satin pillow reading I’m A Horny Widdle Devil (Widdle, widdle … I try to be open-minded, I try to be accepting, but I cannot deal with baby-talk, ever, in any form, written or verbal. Unless, of course, you are a baby, in which case I know you have no choice … and you’re obviously a very intelligent baby if you’re reading this, but it is not age-appropriate material. Where the hell are your parents?).
I turned it over in my hands. “What does it do?”
“Do?” she asked.
“I mean,” I said, still examining it, “Does it walk or talk? Or shoot little chocolate candies out of its butt?”
She explained that it didn’t do anything. She just thought it was cute and that maybe I could take it to work and put it on my desk so I’d think of her whenever I looked at it. That was a bad idea. I was beginning to like this girl, but I knew that every time I looked at that bear I’d like her just a widdle bit less.
What I learned from that experience was that although over the years I would receive other such Valentine-specific tchotchkes that seemed pointless once February 15th rolled around, rather than leaving them on display and gathering dust in my apartment until we broke up or I “misplaced” them while rearranging the furniture, it was perfectly acceptable to take them to work … where I could be reminded of the wonderful girl who gave them to me every time I opened my bottom desk drawer. Also, you don’t have to go to an expensive florist and pony up fifteen bucks for a single rose when it’s perfectly acceptable to pick up a gift at the Exxon station while gassing up your car on the way over to meet your date.
Even when I was with my Ex for umpteen years, we were never quite able to come to terms with how to celebrate, or not celebrate, the holiday. It always felt like some kind of test to me – one I usually failed. In the beginning I tried to be a good Valentiner, because it’s kind of what you do until you have the relationship locked in … like shaving your legs every day, refusing to acknowledge that either of you possess a working gastrointestinal system and thinking those quirks of her’s that will later drive you to the brink of insanity, are cute.
I can’t remember exactly when, maybe six or seven years in, I told her that I thought we’d made our point Valentine-wise and confessed that I really never liked that particular holiday anyway. We’d lived together for years, we told each other “I love you” every day (and meant it!), we shared laughter and tears and secrets and … everything! Was it really necessary to participate in this trite tradition? So we tried agreeing not to celebrate, then I’d arrive home with nothing and she’d have flowers for me; we promised to exchange just cards, but she’d get me candy too; we attempted to be different and celebrate on another day, and I’d find a card taped to the door as I left for work on the 14th. It seemed no matter what I did to not do Valentine’s Day, she found a way to do it anyway — and I looked like a schmoe for sticking to the plan we’d made. But I guess never catching onto the fact that no matter what we agreed to do, we were supposed to do the opposite, shows that I probably am a little schmoey in that department … hint-taking isn’t my strong suit.
I struggle with anything that demands I feel or act a certain way on command. That kind of pressure panics me and I make bad choices. It doesn’t have to be on Valentine’s Day — if someone ran up to me at Target on the second Wednesday in September and yelled, “On your mark, get set, shower your girlfriend with love!” I’d very likely freak out, grab the first thing I saw and thrust it into her hands. And hopefully she’d be touched by how much that six-pack of boys tube socks showed how deeply I care. That same overwhelming feeling of anxiety and indecision is what might cause me to select the first heart-shaped box of candy I see, because somehow an assortment of chocolates that’s identical to all the ones being given to thousands upon thousands of other women would demonstrate how unique and special I think she is.
I’m not anti-gifts. The typical Valentine’s Day one are just limited and I prefer gift-giving occasions that have a little more flexibility, like birthdays and Christmas and no reason at all. If you’re dating me (and again, aside from my suckitude with this one holiday, I don’t know why you’re not … well, unless you’re a guy, or a straight woman, or we’re geographically unsuitable, or you’re in a relationship … but you single SoCal lesbians and bisexual women — oh who am I kidding? you straight women who just want to take a walk on the wild side, too … we should at least get a cup of coffee or something), I may show up at your door one day with a three-gallon jar of Skittles. And you may ask yourself, “Why is Lesbiana giving me a year’s of supply tangy, delicious treats with crunchy candy shells?” (or a week’s supply, or a lifetime supply … I guess it depends on your fondness for Skittles). And you may ask me, “What the fuck Lesbiana?” To which I would reply, somewhat surprised that you even need to ask, “Remember this summer when we went to Palm Springs and we stopped at that gas station to pee? I bought a bag of Skittles and you bought M&Ms, and then later you said you wished you bought Skittles instead. Well, now you don’t have to worry about that because you’ll always have Skittles.” And you might tell me, “I only said that because my M&Ms got all melty and gross.” “Oh.” I would say. But then, quick on my feet and ever the optimist, I would add, “All those Skittles look kind of pretty in that jar though, don’t they?” And you would smile and nod, all the while thinking, “Boy, Valentine’s Day is going to suck with this one.”
And you would be right.
But, the point is that you’d have learned not to set your expectations very high with me, so those Valentine’s Day tube socks won’t be too much of a disappointment.
Pucker Up Buttercup 
You made me laugh just a WIDDLE bit there… UGH! I remember a girlfriend once giving me a Christmas present of… a statuette of a bear dressed in camo army gear toting a water flagon. As soon as she left the poor widdle bear fell into the garbage bin. It wasn’t even worthy of regifting.
Now, onto Valentines day. I have always told various boyfriends and now my husband that I don’t do Valentines day. What a supreme waste of money. Who needs a designated day to tell someone you love them!!! (well, Duh, Hallmark, obviously!).
Valentines just gone, my in-laws were visiting for the night (after a 14 hour trek, so we could hardly send them away) and they wanted Kevin to cook us dinner. Kevin’s Chinese at the local shopping precint makes the BEST Chinese food I’ve tasted in a long time. So off we went. Bright and early, we arrived at Kevin’s about 5.30pm. We were the third diners to be seated, but the phone was ringing off the hook with take away orders. It took our meals longer than normal to arrive, but the staff were takiing wads of orders back to the kitchen, not just the odd one or two. The takeaway line was going out the door and I could just imagine the conversation that would have gone on in more than one home – “look darl. Since it’s Valentimes day and all, don’t you worry about cooking. We’ll get Chinese takeaway. I’ll just ring Kevin’s now.” (and yes, the m was deliberately replaced with the n in Valentines…)
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I think I can do ‘ok’ at Valentine’s Day, I can sort of dodge the minefields and oncoming flagships of Doom and Misinterpretation. You know, the ship where you buy someone a red rose and they think it means you love them unconditionally? THAT ship. I have just had the distinct advantage of having not had a valentine on the continent for YEARS. Brilliant post – we should do cyber coffee some time.
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It’s really really hard to find somebody you can just be yourself with and do not have to succumb to the pressures of media and market. Eventually, even the most loving relationship will be influenced by expectations of things done in movies that looked cute there. I do not do well under pressure and if my love is “questioned” I want to shut down altogether. If one could laugh it all off … would be so awesome. What if V Day falls on a day where you are contemplative and slightly depressed and determinately not the light of the party? Wouldnt it be cool to find that one soulmate that shares the feelings and is not needy for approval on special dates. Alas, we live with the one sthat will have us, and are glad for the warmth of not being alone … But if I could set flames to V Day I would.Rubbish, that! 🙂
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…skittles! we don’t even HAVE skittles here! if you gave me skittles you’d never get rid of me. ever.
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What, no Skittles? Seriously? That’s awful. I can’t imagine my life without Skittles. I guess sometimes I get so used to things just being there, I forget there are people in other parts of the world who are suffering and doing without. A strongly worded letter to your Skittles Ambassador may be in order.
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…we don’t have one of those either.
we do have licorice pepper candy. it’s very tasty, and also funny and useful if you want to make foreigners make strange faces.
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I’ve been trying in vain all day to post my Un- Valentines Day sentiments, but for some reason I can’t incorporate an image…….The media icon keeps floating and disappearing, and I swear I haven’t strated drinking yet……I’m with you all teh way on this one. In fact I am going a step further and declaring an Un-Relationship Day. If my blog ever posts, its an expose on one of my Un-faithful boyfriends. The good nes is that when I Un-attached myself I know longer felt Un-Happy.
Cheers!
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Oh crap….. My fingers were going faster than my brain. They really are typos……
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Maybe your fingers were getting ready for you to start drinking and the typos were your brain’s way of sending you a message to get the party started. I hope you had a lovely Un-Relationship Day and that you spent it being Un-Sad and Un-Sober!
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I did indeed have a lovely day……. I didn’t get to dive head first into a bottle of Baileys though…Soon though……..Soon…….Hasta la victoria siempre!!!!!
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P.S. I love skittles. A lot.
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What a silly holiday. As a straight man (is it ok for me to keep reading your blog since I’ve outed myself like this?), “widdle” would have made me flacid immediately. Have a great day and F U for having great weather to throw in our faces!
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I’m really sorry about the weather (and for including the word ‘widdle’ in my post three times now that I know about its flaccidating effect), but if it’s any consolation, every few years we have raging wild fires followed by torrential downpours and devastating mud-slides. So there’s that …
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I wrote a post on what a bogus holiday V-Day is. I don’t celebrate it. In fact, I UNcelebrate it, every chance I get.
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I’ll have to read your post as I’m curious as to how one UNcelebrates Valentine’s Day. Do you send people cards that say “I never really cared for you all that much”?
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Not a bad idea.
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I hate Valentine’s Day as well- I made sure to ask my spouse, in a not so nice way, “you didn’t get me anything for Valentine’s Day, right? Because I didn’t get you anything”. It’s just another day, and it’s stupid.
My birthday, however, IS a fucking national holiday. That day is not stupid. ;o)
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Yeah, that “don’t get me anything because I didn’t get you anything” thing never worked for me. I don’t get it. Some people just don’t appreciate being let off the hook.
And please remember to alert me a few days before your birthday so that I can go to the post office and do my banking as I’m sure both will be closed in observance.
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I bought a card and and some chocolates for my girlfriend. Because she lives halfway across the world, this should reach in late March, as I haven’t gotten to the post office yet. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t gotten me anything. You could do worse.
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I could do worse, and probably have. But it seems like the Skittle thing is a damn good idea. Now I’m kinda bummed I’m not dating anyone. Oh well, there’s always next year … I just hope that if I meet someone she has a really good dental plan.
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What you need when you have a Valentine’s Day problem is either someone who is okay with that (like my Valentine-in-March girlfriend) or someone who finds it rather sweet and touching how dopey you are.
Good luck!
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Loving this post. I read an anti-Valentine’s Day post the other day (on another blog) and it got me thinking, “Why all the hate for Valentine’s Day?” but you did a very, very funny take on some of the legitimate discomfort folks have with the holiday (and not just the usual “I’m single, Valentine’s Day sucks” or “I’m married and hate my husband for not buying me roses, so Valentine’s Day sucks” thing).
I’m with you on the stuffed bears (Jesus, what is a grown woman going to do with a stuffed teddy bear?) and the candy and the flowers. The Skittles thing is totally romantic, and very sweet, and would easily melt my heterosexual heart. My husband got up this morning at 4am and scraped the ice off my car. And then we had sex in the driveway. I’m joking about the sex in the driveway part (it was too cold) but it’s the little things like that, the ice scraping and Skittles in a jar, that make a relationship.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Another vote for Skittles! Apparently they’re the way to a woman’s heart … who knew? Maybe since it’s too cold for sex in the driveway you can employ some strategic Skittle placement coupled with their slogan and invite your husband to “Taste The Rainbow.” Just a thought …
Happy holiday!
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PS – the skittles jar is a brilliant idea. I’d melt like the M&Ms if someone did that for me.
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Really? Hmmm … maybe if I’d done that she wouldn’t be my Ex now. No, scratch that. Not even Skittles could have saved that relationship.
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I read this entry nodding along like a nodding dog. Yep, yep, yep. In a relationship of five years, and here I sit at my desk going ‘Should I pick something up at lunchtime? Are we doing it this year?’ Last year we said we weren’t, but then he bought me a fucking mini rose-bush (tongue-in-cheek ‘as a symbol of our growing relationship’, which means that when I leave it outside for too long, or when it gets greenfly I panic in the pit of my stomach even though it was a JOKE) and I bought him nothing. I had to make up for it with books a couple of days later. So this year – do I strike first? Should I get something similarly stress-inducing? Should a Valentine’s day present actually be slightly vengeful?
I really, really am not a fan of this day.
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A vengeful Valentine’s Day gift … that’s a good idea! Probably a little too late though considering she’s now my Ex. But I’ll keep it in mind in case I get mixed up with someone else who enjoys celebrating the holidays in a slightly passive-aggressive fashion. Thanks!
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