Valentine’s Day? Or what the more bitter singletons call Singles’ Awareness Day? Nay, I unofficially deem it Independents’ Day.
Not in an overbearing “I’m-a-strong-sassy-independent-chick-who-don’t-need-no-man” way, more like I don’t have any commitments to a loved one (or “liked one”?) this evening and so choose to spend it with my cats – er, I mean friends. But seriously, I actually do have plans tonight that require me to wear something other than athletic garb.
Go on, make your teasing quips of how yes, I’m single by choice, just not my choice. HAHA. This is only partially true (I hope?). Just means more chocolate for me, fool.
But snarky comments aside, I decided to tastefully compose yet another poem dedicated to the celebration of Valentine’s. Although, in the words of Sheldon Cooper, “Given that Saint Valentine was a third century Roman Priest who was stoned and beheaded, wouldn’t a more appropriate celebration of the evening be taking one steady gal to witness a brutal murder?” But let’s not get into technicalities.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
My mother sent me
Some heart-shaped bamboo.
I don’t know the difference
Between a peony and carnation
All I know is I don’t have to sit through
A Nicholas Sparks film adaptation,
Or share my bowl of popcorn
With a nonexistent male.
I’ve circled the 15th of February when
All the Toblerone goes on sale!
But I’m willing to share my wisdom
With my clueless committed lads
Gone astray by Vermont Teddy Bear
And 1-800 Pajama Gram ads.
Don’t buy your girl an iPhone
Equipped with a tracking app.
Remember that fragrance commercials
Are all full of crap.
To the girlfriends on their phones
Whining “No, you hang up first!”
Keep at it, my ladies and I will
Happily hit y’all with my purse.
But since it’s the day of love
I won’t resort to violence
So long as you and your boy come to
Some sort of conversation-ending alliance.
As for me, on Cupid’s fine holiday
I’ll don my semi-formal sweatpants.
And may or may not spend the evening
Filming my version of the Harlem Shake dance.