Valentine's Day

I personally feel that Valentine’s Day is one of the most ridiculous celebratory occasions; and not because I am single. It’s one of those “holidays” that the restaurants and card companies can’t wait to see come around. Stores become inundated with red hearts full of cheap chocolate and flower shops jack up their prices. This crimson observation is nothing more than money grab, a way to re energize the post holiday slump; they should call it Hallmark day.

All week my television was logged with Valentine’s Day propaganda, from Oprah to the women on the View; featuring ridiculous gifts to woo your loved one, like a lovers DNA kit; the only people who need those are those bitches on Maury. I know what would woo me, sex where I get to finish first, now that’s a Valentine’s Day!

God forbid singles want to go to a restaurant on Valentine’s Day; being a non coupled person in the room, is likened to being a leper; people stare with pity painted all over their faces. Not to mention the pressure that Valentine’s Day brings; the rules are often so blurred and undefined. If you start dating in January are you expected to go all out for Valentine’s Day? Or if you have been dating for years does it even matter anymore? In my opinion if there is a lapse in romance until February 14th then the relationship might need some review.

I can get behind the idea of Santa; a guy in a big red suit delivering gifts all across the land is not terribly believable, but during the holiday season I am known to get behind many a stupid farce; blame it on the eggnog. But cupid does NOT exist, a flying baby that strikes love with an arrow? Quite frankly if I saw a baby with a bow and arrow, I would call child services on the spot; what parent gives their baby a bow and arrow? And if the little fucker managed to get an arrow off into my ass, the last thing I would feel is love. Maybe I am jaded because it’s February and I don’t have a valentines or because my valentines days of past have consisted of no gift and no sex; or, even worse, shitty sex on belly full of shit wine and overpriced food; all of which makes for an unhappy Bianca.

This year I made myself a lovely valentine’s dessert and bought myself a card; and I planned on putting one finger in the air, all the while saying “take that cupid, you creepy flying baby”.

But then I spent the evening with my best girlfriend S.; we ate heart shaped pizza, listened to music, laughed, watched "Couples Retreat" and drank wine until we were good and jovial; and something happened.

I felt love.

And it dawned on me, in the non cheesiest way possible, that Valentine’s Day isn’t for lovers; it’s for love. Love in any way, shape or form; from man to woman or friend to friend. I had been so focused on the commercialization of this day, that I had forgotten that love is all around; and this is the day dedicated fully and completely to it. And through all the commercial bullshit, love reigns and LOVE IS BEAUTIFUL; and that is what Valentine’s Day is meant to represent.


Happy belated love day!




No… that wasn’t cheesy at all.

Singlehood

It is official; I am the ONLY single person in my immediate group of friends. Slowly I started to see them drop like flies from singlehood, one by one going to the other side. Some fell fast, like a jumper on the 28th floor; and, some have slowly descended into coupledom. Nonetheless, I am solo, in more ways than one.

I always had Christopher, my gay husband (just like Jill Zarin’s, but way WAY better) and we spent most of our free time together; but now my partner in singledom, has found himself a mate. I am tearing up thinking about our old life (I kid). Although I really like his new man; he has taken my companion away and I am mourning his loss.


So what is a single girl to do in a group of friends that happens to be all couples? I have no idea. I could go to one of those singles mixers, but the clientele is most likely on an hour break from their “Dungeons and Dragons” game; then there is E-Harmony but when I think of E-Harmony I think of desperate women whose eggs are months away from being down syndrome babies, and I have a good 10 years before I’m there. And when I think of plenty of fish, I think of STD’s, don’t ask me why, I just do. I am beginning to think that I have good guy repellent seeping from pores as I tend to only attract sickos, perverts or handicaps; seriously handicap people love me, perhaps I appear as though I have limited brain function, that is my best guess as to why.


The fact that I haven’t been laid in what feels like forever is compounding the problem. If I was getting some play maybe I wouldn’t be so ravenous. The other day I was at the gym and the sexiest man was lifting weights right outside of my spin class, and I found myself white knuckling the bike fantasizing about all the things I would do to his sweaty body; I felt sorry for the girl next to me, as I let out some inappropriately timed moans, I blame the bike seat. All is not lost though, as I am becoming a master of the ménage-a-un; and the saying is true, practice does make perfect! I mean, I could go out and find someone to fuck, but I gave up sex on the first (or fifth) date; in my experience it’s always shitty sex and my acting skills are better used getting out of parking tickets rather than faking orgasms. Plus, I’m over that awkward after casual sex exchange, what do I say? “Thanks for nothing”, “OUCH my back you, fucking jack hammering idiot” or “why are you still here, the sun is coming up”...


I have been channeling my sexual tension into super intense workouts; nothing gets my body moving more than thinking about sweaty, disgusting, porno sex; but the classy kind of porn. I maintain that most porn’s are completely unrealistic, no female ACTUALLY enjoys getting a fist up her pussy. Any woman that can make that look pleasurable deserves a fucking Academy Award.


And all these dating shows are making me nervous. Last night I was watching “Tough Love” and there was a 39 year old woman whose title was “Miss Lone Ranger “ who was the E-Harmony woman I was talking about, jaded, wrinkled and single; with old eggs stinking of sulfur from her loins. Scary.


So it would seem that I need to stop watching dating shows and continue working out but keep the sex fantasies to a minimum. The "Month of Me" couldn’t have come at a better time; because there is only me, and no one else.