Chivalrous Men

I’ve been single on Valentine’s Day for most of my adult life, so I’ve grown rather used to it. I don’t do the whole “I hate Valentine’s Day” thing just because I don’t have a Valentine to wear red lacy lingerie for. I still wear red, buy treats for friends, and indulge in whatever chocolate comes my way–significant other or no significant other.

This past Valentine’s Day, however, turned out to be rather interesting.

I’ve been texting with an ex-boyfriend lately. My “first love,” to be exact. After he broke my heart 9 years ago, we didn’t exactly keep in touch. But recently, we started playing Words with Friends via Facebook…which led to text messages…which led to one awkward phone call….and no, we’re not getting back together. A lot can change in 9 years, including my taste in men. Anyway, that’s not the point.

On Valentine’s Day, he made the comment that he and his friend think Valentine’s Day is “overdone,” that people shouldn’t have to prove their love to their significant others just because it’s Valentine’s Day. Basically, he and his friend were complaining that they had to buy flowers and chocolates and be romantic.

A little irritated that these men were complaining about having to–heaven forbid!–put forth a tiny bit of effort on Valentine’s Day, I queried another male friend of mine. Since I consider this male friend to be the smartest man I know, I figured he’d differ in his opinion of Valentine’s Day. But no. He, too, is “not of fan of Valentine and his/her little day.” He felt that, since he buys flowers and does other romantic things throughout the year, he shouldn’t be told by society that he has to be romantic on this specific day. (I was quick to point out that many men don’t do romance during the rest of the year so their poor wives and girlfriends have nothing but Valentine’s Day to look forward to.)

So, by the middle of the day, I was rather disheartened by these men. Is chivalry really so dead that men are complaining about buying chocolate and roses on Valentine’s Day?! Why bother finding someone to love when that person is going to complain about buying you roses every February 14th? I might as well throw in the towel and plant my own rose bush.

But as I played with the diamond heart necklace another ex-boyfriend gave me for Valentine’s Day years ago and which I wear every Valentine’s Day, I realized that chivalry isn’t dead–it’s just hard to find.

Chase–an ex-boyfriend that was three years younger than me yet treated me better than any other boyfriend. My dad–who always bought roses and chocolate for my mom and me on Valentine’s Day… including this year. David–my friend Jess’s husband, who actually made her a card this Valentine’s Day. Brandon–my friend Jamie’s boyfriend, who swept Jamie off her feet last week….. All these men put forth effort on Valentine’s Day and never once complained about it. And because of them, I’ll keep looking for love and will hopefully have my own Valentine one of these years.

EXpectations

Once a year (on Valentine’s Day), I wear my heart-shaped diamond necklace. Two rows of little diamonds, inlaid in gold, in the shape of a heart. Not really my style. But it works on Valentine’s Day. And it was given to me by an ex-boyfriend ON a Valentine’s Day years ago. It is actually the only piece of jewelry ever given to me by a boyfriend (except for my first boyfriend from fourth grade,who rarely talked to me but gave me gifts every holiday). And so, I wear the necklace partially in honor of a past relationship–the only serious relationship I’ve had where the guy really treated me the way a woman should be treated.

And I broke his heart.

“Wes” and I were a wrong match from the start. He was younger, barely graduated high school with no intention of going to college, and was satisfied going to a so-so job everyday with no ambitions or goals to do better. Two things kept us together: humor and physical chemistry. Ok, three things–he was also wrapped around my finger. I ended our initial relationship because I knew we weren’t going anywhere. But we then proceeded to be on-again-off-again for a year after until we called it quits completely.

This past Friday, I forgot all about the many reasons we didn’t work out when I found a picture of us in a stack of old photos. I looked at how happy we were and started getting all nostalgic. I remembered our first kiss. I remembered how he drove three hours in the middle of the night just to wish me a Happy Birthday. I remembered how I got home from a tough day at work to find he’d gone out of his way to get me my favorite orange chicken from the Chinese place at the mall.

So I did what any normal, masochistic woman would do–I texted him to see how he was doing.

And he called me back.

Now, the last time I talked to him was when I was incredibly intoxicated and wandering down Franklin Street in Chapel Hill, NC with some friends. I don’t remember anything about that conversation except getting teary-eyed as I told him my mom passed away and then him telling me something about having surgery on his hip. But I digress.

So he calls me back and I answer, full of expectations about rekindling a friendship. After all, I don’t have much interaction with males except for the creepy ones that haunt the library and stare at me with I’m-going-to-chop-you-up-and-put-you-in-my-freezer eyes. Occasionally, this single girl starts longing for some flirty conversation with the opposite sex. And exes can be good for that. At times.

We start with small talk. Wes apparently got some of that ambition he used to lack–he’s a district manager in charge of sales for a brewing company. He travels around, talking to people, with plans to do big things. I’m impressed.

But as the conversation went on, I started to be reminded of all the reasons we didn’t work out. We just don’t have a whole lot to talk about; we don’t have a lot in common except our past. He just basically spent the entire conversation talking about his job. We ended it with an “if you’re in my area, let me know and we can meet up” but I rather doubt that will actually happen.

This got me to thinking about my tendency to romanticize other people. Particularly ex-boyfriends. I’ve been single for so long that I’ve started to look at my ex-boyfriends and think, “They weren’t so bad.” But, in reality, they were. The funny one was a liar. The hot one was a cheater. And Wes and I just didn’t have anything to really talk about. This realization was the slap in the face and kick in the pants I needed. As my best friend, Leslie said to me today, “we deserve better.” So maybe it’s time we went looking for better, Leslie. You with me?

How To Survive Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day has, at times, been referred to as Singles’ Awareness Day because of its tendency to make single people feel even more single. After all, we single people don’t receive dozens of red roses, boxes of chocolates, fancy dinners or teddy bears holding hearts that read “I Wuv You.” No, for us single people, Valentine’s Day is like having a birthday party that no one came to–it’s just you, surrounded by candy, and crying into a piece of cake.

However, one can only handle but so many Valentine’s Days alone. And so, I’ve developed some Valentine’s Day coping mechanisms:

1. Work late. Spending the evening hours at your humdrum job means you won’t be subjected to all the romance movies on TV or couples at restaurants (unless, of course, you work at restaurant…in which case, I highly suggest coming down with the flu on Valentine’s Day). Seeing love–whether it’s on the screen or in the booth next to you–inevitably leads to the devouring of a pint of Haagen Daz chased by a bottle of cheap wine and finished with an intoxicated attempt to sign up on eHarmony as your mascara runs down your cheeks. So do yourself a favor and work overtime.

2. Go someplace void of happy couples. Like the library. Sure, we have the occasional teenage prostitute servicing the homeless man in the foreign language section, but libraries are mostly populated with anti-social people, smelly people, people mumbling to themselves, and teenagers hogging the computers just so they can update their Facebook statuses every 15 minutes: “omg the liberrian is like totally givin me the evil eye wtf.”

3. Eat. And I don’t mean the emotional kind of eating that leads to the inhalation of entire bags of Lays Sour Cream & Onion  potato chips or rolls of Pillsbury cookie dough. Cook your favorite meal or try a new recipe. Or if you’re feeling really ambitious, try baking one of those fancy cakes you see on the Food Network. And whatever you do, do NOT weigh yourself the following morning. Nothing’s worse than feeling single except feeling fat and single.

4. Watch a movie. But not The Notebook. Watch movies that make you glad you’re single (Fear is a good choice since it has the added bonus of starring Mark Wahlberg). Or movies that make you glad you’re a strong woman, like Iron Jawed Angels. Or something that will have you peeing your pants (Spring Breakdown is a HI.LAR.I.OUS chick flick no matter what the reviewers say).

5. Read. Of course a librarian is going to suggest reading. But nothing Nicholas Sparks. Or any other unrealistic and sappy love story. Pick up a thriller or mystery. Or steamy erotica. Maybe try a nonfiction book on a topic you’ve always wondered about. Here’s a novel idea–why not visit the library and ASK A LIBRARIAN for a recommendation?! And no, I don’t mean go to Barnes & Noble and asking a salesperson. We librarians are actually trained to give book recommendations. A few of my personal love-related recommendations are: Pornology by Ayn Carillo-Galley, The Art of Seduction by Robert Greene, and 51/50: The Magical Adventures of a Single Life by Kristen McGuiness (which I’m reading and loving right now).

6. Pamper yourself. Take a nice bath. Treat yourself to a deep conditioning treatment. Give yourself a mani/pedi. Or, if your “spa days” are more like mine, wax the weird mustache that you never notice until AFTER you’ve left the house; pluck those few dark chin hairs that seem to sprout overnight; take a cheese grater to the calluses on your feet; dye your premature gray hairs; apply Rogaine to your thinning scalp; and then fill up the bath just so can obsess about how much water is displaced when your fat ass gets in the tub.

7. Throw a party. For single people only. Maybe a single ladies party. But do NOT spend the entire time lamenting the single life. Embrace it. Talk about all the reasons it’s great to be single, like: getting the bed all to yourself; having the ability to walk around naked without someone assuming it means sexy time; not having to fight for your right to watch The Bachelor; no nagging worry that you married the wrong one; no worrying about whether or not your partner is really working late;  no awkward “where is this going?” conversations; not having to shave your legs (and other areas) constantly; no in-laws; not having to clean up after someone else; and just the general ability to do whatever you want, whenever you want, without worrying about what your partner is doing. Singledom is freedom, baby.

8. Tap your inner fortune-teller. Unhappy about spending Valentine’s Day alone? Consult the stars. Whip out the tarot cards. Check your horoscope. Maybe love is right around the corner. And if not, then maybe you’ll discover some winning lottery numbers and can then buy a boyfriend. From Brazil. Who doesn’t speak English.

9. Go artsy/craftsy. One of my favorite (and odd) hobbies is cutting up magazines. I’ll cut out words, phrases, and images that appeal to me and then create collages and other mixed media artworks. Hours fly by when I’m doing this. I get in the “creative zone.” So why not try it or something else artsy? Scrapbooking is popular, as is knitting (although I still see it as the pastime of crazy, old cat ladies). If you’re not the creative type, do a paint-by-numbers or steal a coloring book from an unsuspecting kid. 

10. Sleep. If you’ve eaten your weight in cookies, consulted your horoscope, watched Chicago ten times, knitted a hat for your cat, read Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, and you’re still not happy about flying solo on Valentines day, then take a sleeping pill and call it a night. By the time you wake up, the horrible holiday will be over and all Valentine’s Day candy will be 50% off. Can we say “chocoholic jackpot”?!