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Monday 14 February 2011

F*ck Valentine's Day! Or, ahhh Valentine's Day...

Aaargh! Valentine's Day!!

Or... ohhhh, Valentine's Day!

Depending on which side of that dreaded love fence you sit, it's either the stuff of nightmares or the day you've been waiting for all year (especially if this time last year you were single).

But don't be fooled that this day is any less 'stressful' for the loved up.

Depending on your 'relationship status' (thanks Facebook, for forcing us all to define it), it also raises many other modern-day quandaries: is your f-buddy meant to crossover to boyfriend-status on this dripping-with-expectation day?

And is your de facto/live-in BF meant to propose today?

And if so, where? In your teeny apartment amongst takeaway boxes? Or on a white-sand beach somewhere exotic? On the Sydney Harbour BridgeClimb along with 4,000 other couples who've already done it? Or in a crowded restaurant surrounded by other usually-not-that-romantic-lovers?

See, there is pressure everywhere, people!

In my humble opinion, if you've been with your man for years and expect grand gestures, you'll be disappointed. My boyfriend would make a huge effort - think teddybears, flowers, cards, the whole catastrophe - and yes, after years of haphazard dating and relationships, I thoroughly lapped it up. This continued well into our early married years. Workmates can attest that I'd receive singing balloons at work, delivered to reception, with my work pals egging me on to carry them from the reception desk to mine, then carry them home on the train (I'd always decline on the latter challenge... I mean, seriously!?)

Last year, with two year old twins and no babysitter and the opportunity for hubby to work that day, I found myself at a dear friend's nephew's birthday party with the kids. We had a quiet meal later and a glass of wine together - and I loved it.

This year, not much romance is planned. With no babysitters on tap and work to attend to during the day, it's expected to be another night at home with those I love. I've suggested the four of us go to a food court later (I wouldn't dare think of disturbing other couples at exy restaurants with the shenanigans - and tantrums - of three year old twins) and share a meal together, where we can make mess, noise and still feel like we've "done something."

Not that it honestly matters. All year 'round we do romantic stuff for each other. But it's not what you think...

On Saturday, hubby did the kids' baths so I could slip out for a pal's birthday drinks. Now that's romance to me. And I make his fave meals every day of the week. Nothing says love more than that.

This article from my fave news site The Punch is the best piece I've read on the oft-dreaded day.

It's hard to pull out the best paragraph from it, but I will start with this one:

"Usually when you go out for a meal, there’s a slim chance that you’ll be challenged to keep your dinner down because of the rouge couple in the corner who spend more time eating each other’s tongues than their mains. However, when 7pm on Feb 14 hits, if you’re not copulating on the table, you’re the odd one out. It’s nauseating. I’d rather be lying on the couch watching rubbish I’d never admit to IQ-ing, than trying to swallow my Steak Diane in a sea of 15 couples waist deep in foreplay."

And this one:

"If you’re single and you don’t have a date on Valentine’s Day, that doesn’t make you any less of a person, and if you’re in a relationship where you have to wait till the middle of February every year to get your partner to put in a little effort, it’s probably time you packed your little handkerchief on a stick and set off for greener pastures."

To read the whole article, go here:


Valentine's Day: it's either: "F*ck Valentine's Day!" or "F*ck, Valentine's Day." Wherever you sit, there is hope! It's called February 15...

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