The Single Girl's Slightly Embittered Thoughts on Valentine's Day

Love. It’s all you need apparently. I always thought a healthy balanced diet, fresh air and exercise were all you need but I’m happy to stand corrected.

For me, it doesn’t matter that everybody else in the world spent yesterday in the arms of their beloved. Even if the Very Good Looking Estate Agent had pitched up on my doorstep with an enormous bouquet of white roses and a pair of tickets to Saint Petersburg, I would have told him to come back another day. It was Wales Vs England in the Six Nations and Wales won because they are super.

Anyway. Valentine’s day is one of those odd occasions. Like a funeral. It’s full of things we are “supposed” to do. We are “supposed” to send cards, chocolates, forecourt bouquets and sky divers to the person we love so they know how much we love them. We are “supposed” to take them out to dinner, possibly asking for joint ownership of all their current and future possessions during dessert. If we fail to do these things, tears and recriminations will follow.
If we are single, we are “supposed” to not mind. We are “supposed” to be independent women who jolly well don’t need a man to have a good time because dancing around a handbag with our Girlfriends is far more kicking than being wined, dined and retiring to a hotel room filled with rose petals.

It helps nobody that the shops and newspaper supplements are full of suggestions for what to buy a loved one for the Big Day. It only re-enforces the idea that a plastic figurine of a love smitten penguin is how we are all supposed to feel about each other. Do you feel a plastic figurine of a love smitten penguin adequately expresses how you feel about your loved one? Of course you don’t. You are enormously generous and cultured and went for the teddy bear holding a satin heart instead.

I run into the same quandary whenever I am required to buy a card for somebody. If they don’t contain a grimly unfunny joke about beer or women, they have a deeply naff poem about how wonderful everything is. I usually go for those hi-larious cards with a nonsensical one liner on them; “Wendell just knew the dancing would result in a hat,” and so forth.

There is probably some kind of point to be made here about the necessity of telling people how we feel, about not leaving it because it may one day be too late and about not confusing penguins with affection. I could make it, but I’m far too fond of penguins to do that.

In other news: The cat may or may not be having her eyeball removed on Monday. I tried to come up with a pithy Valentine’s Day joke involving the literal application of her becoming unable to take her eye(ball) off me but couldn’t quite find the phrasing. Submissions welcomed.