V-Day (Or Should I say D-Day...)

Now that the holiday season has come to a close, the other lesser holidays are welcome to grace the shelves of CVS’ everywhere and have their 15 minutes of fame. The current flavor of the month is Valentine’s Day, a holiday (like many celebrated in the U.S.) that is so far removed from its origins it may as well find itself a new name. For those of you who don’t know, Valentine’s Day is named for St. Valentinus, a priest who tried to convert the Roman Emperor to Christianity and was stoned to death. If that doesn’t scream romance, I don’t know what does.

Valentine’s Day usually generates a sense of annoyance within me (most likely due to my perpetual single-ness) but this year I am turning over a new leaf. I’ve decided that my usual protocol of wearing all black in protest of the holiday and the inordinate amounts of sugar I am likely to consume just wasn’t cutting it. Today, I am sporting red under my black suit, meeting my old self and the receptionist in my office halfway between funeral and heart pattern overkill.

I have decided that if Russell Stover and Hallmark reserve the right to concoct their own versions of the meaning on Valentine’s Day, then I should do the same. So many of the holidays are dictated by the people you have (or don’t have) in your life. Christmas wouldn’t be quite as magical if there weren’t children running around believing in the best-kept secret on earth. Thanksgiving is often depicted as a long rectangular table overflowing with carbohydrates and at least a dozen rosy-cheeked white people smiling in adoration of one another. Valentine’s Day is no different; commercials and cards alike insinuate that being single is so last season and if you don’t have a boo come February 14, you are out. Auf wiedersehen.

But what if you don’t have children or your own version of Madea’s Family reunion? Do Christmas and Thanksgiving mean less to you? Of course not, because you understand that under all the glitz and glam (and weight gain) those holidays are about being thankful and spreading joy. So, my resolution this year is to spread the love of Valentine’s Day around the campus of Montclair State University and—by means of my social networking systems—to all of my friends and family elsewhere in the country. I am very blessed and lucky to have you all in my life and absolutely wouldn’t give any of you up for anything. Today is about love, and that doesn’t necessarily have to be the romantic dinner and candlelit kind of love. So this is me, sending all of my love to all of you. Now go out there and spread that love.

Things Girls Do

 As a very wise Doris Day once said, “I enjoy being a girl.” I second this statement and wouldn’t trade the god-awful act of bra shopping, unbearable cramps or the millions of razors purchased in my lifetime for anything. Being a boy just doesn’t seem as exciting. Plus, they have no hair and don’t wear makeup. What would I do in my spare time? Read?

That said, I’m willing to admit that some of the things we ladies do make little to no sense. The following is a list of ridiculous crap that girls do that are paradoxical in nature and yet somehow ever-present in this world. Disclaimer: I am in no way exempt from the list below. In fact, I am guilty of doing most of these things at one point or another.

 Saying you’re fine when you’re not- During a fight with a boyfriend, your passive-aggressive side takes charge. “Are you upset?” “No, I’m not. I mean, you just told me I look disgusting and shouldn’t wear patterned tops but I’m totally fine. It’s really fine. Doesn’t bother me at all.” Or the ever-popular saying you’re fine while stomping out of the room, arms crossed. If you would’ve just said that you were pissed and had a conversation about it, the poor guy could’ve apologized and bought you something by now.

Planning out your life with someone before you really know them- Raise your hand if you’ve met a cute guy and after the first hangout or date you’ve thought about taking a vacation with them, naming your kids or what your first and his last name sounds like combined. If your hand isn’t raised, you’re a damn liar.

Wet hair, underwear and thermal socks.

Shorts with uggs- It is just simply confusing to the eye. “Oooh, my feet are so cold that I need to coat them in fur but the frosty wind blowing up into my lady parts doesn’t phase me at all.”

Makeup to the gym- This is a tough one. We all know that hotties with the bodies frequent the gym and so we want to look our best. Unfortunately, wearing making to the gym if you’re planning on breaking a sweat makes little to no sense. If you had it on from your day at work, that’s different. But if you’re in the Planet Fitness parking lot applying bronzer in your rearview, we have an issue. Chances are, unless your idea of “working out” is fixing your ponytail in the abundance of mirrors for an hour, you’re going to sweat and your makeup is going to run all over and make you look like a gremlin. At that point, the boys will be staring, but not in the way you might’ve hoped.

 Ridiculous status updates- We’ve all done it. That moment when you are so upset about something nothing that you head straight for itunes and play every Taylor Swift song you have until you find the exact lyric that describes your utter devastation. They are usually completely out of control and look like this: “I said leave but all I really want is you to stand outside my window throwing pebbles screaming I’m in love with you. Wait there in the pouring rain, come back for more, and don’t you leave cause I know all I need is on the other side of the door. “ I would be willing to bet that nine out of ten times you see this kind of update it is simply because some boy didn’t like your last status.

This is exactly how I stand.

The pose(s)- Where to begin? There are so many. There’s the ever-popular hand-on-waist, hip popped and head tilted back look that you see in bathrooms across America as girls are getting ready to go out. There’s the sorority squat where a small group forms two tiers and all lean towards each other with their hands on their knees. There’s the promiscuous leg wrap/hold. And then there’s my personal favorite, the hands-on-hips, push my shoulders forward to reveal my suddenly emaciated-looking collarbone.

Screaming at bars- You have class with Annie twice a week. She lives on your floor. You guys got coffee this afternoon. Why, then, do you find it necessary to shriek her name at a pitch only dogs can hear when she enters the bar? If someone shows up to surprise you, fine. If it’s someone you haven’t seen in a while, great. If it’s Ryan Reynolds, you do it. But otherwise, please stop screaming.

Reading other people’s phones- YOU ARE NOT HARRIET THE SPY. GET OUT OF MY SHIT.

Stalking, social media style- Ten years ago, stalking got you a restraining order. Today, stalking is normal in society and even encouraged by social media networks. How many times have I heard a girl utter these words: “I know he got my message because he updated his status AND commented on Bobby’s picture,” or “I know he didn’t stay home last night because he checked-in at McDonald’s.”

Wearing a skirt to the bar (when you know you’re gonna get on it)- Ladies. If you have a history of climbing on things in public, please, for the sake of all of us who have eyes, don’t wear a skirt belt out at night. You’re probably going to fall over at some point and I have no interest in seeing which Victoria’s Secret creation you’re sporting today.