Usually, I’m one to just ignore Valentine’s Day’s entire existence whenever it rolls around. And no, it’s not because I am single and bitter (which I kind of am…not so much the bitter part) like everyone will no doubt accuse me of. When really, I just stopped giving any effs.
I may have looked gorgeous for the entire week leading up to the dreaded day, but on that day I coincidentally forwent all f*cks. Appereance? Jank. I woke up late, which means there was no time to put on a layer of BB moisturizer or eyeliner (which is all I put on because I am not attempting to do facial surgery). No, today you get the basics, which probably means I only washed my face and brushed my teeth. Attitude? Stank. Instead of going to that cycling class at the gym I decided to watch YouTube (dude named Jerry Lavigne or something like that, because his son is adorable). Today you get an over the top snarky, glaze-eyed husk of a person sitting in the desk next to you that is thinking of a plan to un-alive every single person in the room.
It’s not like I am doing it on purpose, it just happens to be my body’s natural response to years and years of not caring.
And then my track record is not where it should be.
First off, elementary school was horrible, it was the child equivalent to Mean Girls. Lesson Learned: upper-class private Catholic school children are mean as all hell (actually made me question home-schooling my future children), so give friendship the middle finger. Middle school was the whole “I don’t understand phase” where for whatever reason you are somehow dating everyone you have ever had a conversation that was more than twenty minutes with. Lesson: If people are going to make assumptions about me, I might as well be myself. High school made me think “WTF, was I disgustingly ugly before or something? Because now the whole world loves me… but its too late, I’m way too jaded.” Lesson: not really sure if there was a lesson for that one.
College…is a work in progress
Have you ever had a secret admirer person who does something really nice and then you feel really guilty over it?
Story of my life. I have been having many recent run-ins and conversations with this guy from like the very first class I had ever had in my college career (two years ago) and he remembers me and talks to me like we are old friends and I am okay with that. The horrible part is I, for the life of me, cannot remember his name. And as fate would have it he knows mine and yells it across streets to get my attention. Mind you these occurrences have been happening for almost two months now and I have nearly descended into madness trying to creep around the internet for his name. After nearly an hour trolling on Facebook I realized I was never going to find it because of the over abundance of common names like: John, Brandon, Jacob, David, and etc. (Hell, there are like six Katies on my hall and I swear they are all annoying and that at least two are roommates). To make things worse, I feel like his name was either Jacob or David, but I refuse to go through over 50 Facebook profiles over one dude because that’s strange.
Okay, fine. I accepted the fact that I would be the ass-wipe of a person that would entertain this and not even know his name. This plan was going fine and dandy until I got a mysterious Valentine delivered a la Mean Girls styled messenger. It was one of the sweetest things ever and the card was witty, having some half assed attempt at a piece written by Shakespeare (which is extremely appropriate as I am taking the class) but at the bottom it had a name. And all I could say was, “Who the F*CK is Jacob?”
Then to make the holiday-if you can call it that (if I’m still in class then it is not a legitimate holiday)- worse I got a straight forward Valentine…coffee.
Or, breakfast it was a Starbucks drink (my secret shame) and a pastry. The only difference was instead of the usual made up names and aliases I use to get coffee without feeling ashamed of myself the cup read “My Valentine”. Of course the guy got ultimate side-eye because I had nowhere near agreed to this but I figured he owed me one since he said some weird Hannibal Lecter-esque compliment the other day.
His exact words were and I quote: “I really like you…you’re smart and funny and you have really good skin…I like that…”
I was not ready for that…at all. At the time I took in stride because he was so drunk he was miles past the point of no return. And quite frankly I didn’t know whether to be flattered or run away in fear that he may want to rip my face off and do whatever it is creepers do after strange sh*t like that.
Needless to say, I took the stuff because A) it was early…9 am early and I was hungry and B) I need caffeine to function.
Leave it to me to have the weirdest Valentine’s Day, one filled with cluelessness and creepy face stealers.
This is why Valentine’s Day is way more trouble than it’s worth. I would much rather accept a comment, text, email or phone call. To do any of these I would have to know your name and hence remove any guilt I might feel for not knowing of your existence. And while everyone is planning epic days like they are going to propose to someone, I will have myself, Pandora and this pizza. You’re welcome to join if you want.
image(s): thewildandthewicked.wordpress.com, www.julierosesews.com, degrassi.wikia.com, gurl.com, rebloggy.com