Just Another Day

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Valentine’s Day has never been a favorite of mine, but I’m trying to look at the bright side. I am grateful the government probably won’t have to bail out Hallmark. The restaurants, whose waitstaff run you down when you walk in during the dead of winter in East Hampton, they are so excited to have a customer because the place is, literally, (compared to New York City, for example,) dead. But tonight they’ll be really busy, so I’m happy for them. Men spend money on this day unless they’ve decided they hate sex and/or the person they are with. The economy thrives. It’s a GREAT DAY!

But still, the whole idea of Valentine’s Day tips the scale and defines the illusion (or not.. but I’m pretending it’ an illusion just to get through the day) of the ‘Have’s’ and ‘Have Nots’. It’s like throwing a glass of ice water in your face if you happen to be in the second category. What do single people do on St. Valentine’s Day? Sign up for on-line dating? Get some single friends and drink heavily? Watch a movie (again)?

All the single people who just by the nature of being single have slight complexes since we were all brought up thinking we would get married, be relatively happy, and at least appear somewhat normal, don’t really know what to do with this occasion. Plus we’re lonely: and then we have Valentine’s Day to contend with in the middle of dreary winter after just getting through the Holidays and New Years Eve? How much more can a single person take? I am NOT complaining (much) but this is MY Blog so I can if I want to.

No one admits this too much of course because then will come the inevitable lecture from a friend whose hot boyfriend is whisking her off to St. Bart’s. “You have to learn to be happy with yourself before you find anyone.” Oh, so glad the Botox gave you inner love. Or: “Stop looking! It will happen when you least expect it.” Like I lurk around corners and sweep through the bars and attend singles-only tennis events. “Ok, you met your guy online,” I want to remind her.

What happens to these people? Even best friends swear it won’t happen but when a new love comes along you never see them again until either it’s over or they got marred and hate each other.

We may as well have, “I own a yacht and private plane day and you don’t” Day. It’s the same principle. Then at least we wouldn’t to have to endure Vermont Teddy-gram commercials. All the ads weeks before “I won my own etc Day” would only see rich people getting ready for their big day. And that basically means we will be staring at movie stars, hedge fun Cheshire cats, and Alex Rodriquez. Small field. That’s too bad, since I want to date one of them. My mother has actually been struck by lightening twice so there’s hope that anything can happen.

It’s the same principle though. Valentine’s Day is kind of a “have, have-not” deal.

Not that being single is a horrible existence. If I think about it, having floated down the aisle twice in oblivion, I don’t think I would know what to do at this particular moment if I did have a boyfriend. He’d snore. He might talk with his mouth full. I talk in my sleep and move around so much in the morning I am facing the other way. My bed is filled with books and (I hate to admit) my computer is actually on my bed. This would concern him.Plus he might be cheap and ignore me on Valentine’s Day!

Inevitably he’d start to be critical of my living habits and then I would have to get out of there and sob for about, say, two years.

In fact, I think I’ll make my computer my Valentine even though I think of my computer as a she and I’m not gay. I’m going to think of a nice name for her, and take her to be cleaned. She and I are going to start fresh because I secretly know she hates me and enjoys making my life a living ****. It’s because we spend too much time together. “Go find other interests besides me!” She might be thinking. “I am sick of you.” But since I live on the thing I have to turn things around. I was thinking Miranda would be a nice name but now it reminds me of terrorists so that’s too depressing. I’ll think of something.

So I trudge the fifty feet in the snow to greet my mother this morning, as I always do. “Oh, I was beginning to think I didn’t HAVE a daughter!” She says this every day so I’ll have to stay for breakfast. But today she looked teary. I know it’s because she misses my Dad, since they’d been married sixty-three years and he was in perfect health before he had a stroke and crashed into the tennis house, which is right next door.

Mom’s mumbling behind the newspaper. “I had a little accident because of one of those **** deer raced in front of me and I swerved and hit a tree and crushed the car.” She announced, as if she’d just said, “We’re having cereal.”
“What? Where?”
“In the driveway. I forgot to turn on the **** car lights. They are so hard to find and I was in a hurry.”
“Mom…. You were speeding.”
“There are no cops n the driveway!”

That would have been fun to have both parents die in car crashes fifty yards apart. She looked a little shaken up. I peered outside. The car was mangled.

“Well,” she sighed, reading my thoughts, “Budi (what she called Dad) was lucky he died so fast. It wouldn’t have been such a bad way to go.”
“I brought you a chocolate heart!” I exclaimed with false cheeriness, whipping it from behind my back. “Will you be my Valentine?”

She smiled. “We have fun, right? Let’s go out to lunch and drink champagne!”

How many guys would come up with such a fun idea on his own?”

The computer is going to have to wait. Besides, it serves her right. Maybe she’ll miss me while I’m gone afternoon and be extra co-operative tonight. She might let me paste on a widget!


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