Joy Eisenberg ’10
Sports Editor
At the beginning of January, I stopped in at CVS to buy the newest Cosmo, and what I saw was more surprising than the magazine’s “Top 10 Ways To Nail The Guy of Your Dreams”.
Marked down santa hats, reindeer lawn decorations, and dreidel shaped chocolates looked incredibly cheap and lonely amid a sea of vibrant pink, white, and red.
The preparation for Valentines Day, or should I say Singles Awareness Day (SAD), whose initials reflect the status of the lonely and depressed, was beginning more than a month early. Awesome.
As you might have already guessed, yes, I am single, and one of the top reasons why I hate Valentine’s Day is because if you are without a companion, you can’t moan about it or you end up sounding like a dried-up old spinster with seven cats.
But at this point, I don’t even care anymore.
While some may say, specifically those who are in relationships, that there is tons to do on this pepto-colored day when you’re single, the truth is there isn’t.
Sure, I could go to the movies with friends, but then we would be the only full row of seats with the rest of the theater sectioned off in pairs. Not to mention your group will consist of the only people in the theater actually laughing, screaming or let alone watching because everyone else will be, lets just say preocupied.
Another suggestion frequently heard and just as frequently turned down is the idea of a spa day, or pampering yourself.
Okay, it’s a good suggestion, but for any day but Valentines Day.
Why would I want to buy myself gifts when other girls are receiving them? Also, being alone will only give me more time to think about why I am alone.
Now, I can’t complain and not feel bad for the poor, clueless boys on this SAD day.
The holiday makes them do stupid things such as light candles and scatter Hershey Kisses around the house.
It also gets them into trouble when they don’t do stupid things such as light candles and scatter Hershey Kisses around the house.
Because, actually, she really wanted you to, but prompting is just so unromantic.
So go ahead, call me the cat lady.
