Drunk Rant: Valentine's Day

You guys knew this was coming/ A drunk rant for valentines day.

 VIA theodysseyonline.com

VIA theodysseyonline.com

I am concerned because I am finding that as a result of my weekend-long binge, it is extremely difficult to become drunk, or even tipsy, by myself on a Monday nihgt. Don’t fear friends, I will truck on for you!

….

Valentine's Day comes 4 times a year. Or is it just one? Shit. I can’t even tell anymore. I feel like it is a constant toppic of conversation. We are all anticipating it, complaining about our previous disappointments, or dreaming of the perfect distant-future v-day. All year long we build impossible expectations for this day.

If we have a partner, we expect them to do somethign big that tops everyone else’s story. We expect candles, chocolate, flowers, teddy bears, surprises… the list goes on and on and every year it gets more obsurd.

If we don’t have a partner, we do one of two things.

  1. We expect some SUPERRRR secret admirer to pop out of our buttholes and get down on one knee.
  2. We expect to spend the holiday alone and miserable.
 VIA techtimes.com

VIA techtimes.com

Alternate answer (just to make everyone feel included): We don’t expect anything because we are staunch believers that Valentine's Day was created by consumerism and we DO NOT work for the man or by the man.

No matter where we stand when Black History Month rolls around, most of us are expecting ~SoMeThInG~ And this is where my rant begins. Without going into too much detail, I will just inform you that I leanred a ditty about disappointment this year. But that disappointment stemmed from my own expectations about an event and the events that may occur at said event. Do you follow??

Anywho, my eyes were blinded by the shining disappointment of failed expectations. I am still wearing corrective lenses, but I am hopeful for a full recovery...eventually. It takes time to break habits, people!

In relationships (and literally every other aspect of life. But let’s just focus on relationships for the sake of taking this point to the drive-in-movie and having him home by curfew.) we often set unrealistic expectations. We struggle with the desire for grand gestures...especially surrounding old St. Valentine’s. We are enthralled with the romance of movies (and on movie budgets, I might add), and we desire that for ourselves. It isn’t wrong to want the best for yourslef, but it is a good rule of thumb to remember that we are all human and trying to be adults or whatever the hell.

When I learnt (trying to be British) that disappointment ditty, I learnt (‘ello Guvnah!) that it is better to reset my expecations, or abolish them altogether. I am always more excited about small gestures throughout the year, than one gesture on a superficial holiday. When I get these small pleasures all year, I know it is coming from the heart. Whereas, when I am on the receiving end of a grand Valentine’s gesture, I feel that it was only done because society encouraged it, and I, and everyone, expected it.

(I feel that it is important to point out here that I am referring to myself as someone who has been presented with small gestures, and big gestures alike. I am not. I have never received consisten gestures from a special individual. And now I should add that I DO NOT expect that either. Point made.)

Society fosters an atmosphere that drives women’s expectations up like the heat index in an Indian summer. Additionally, it puts pressure on men (or at least one partner) to plan something extravagent for this day, which has no present-day significance. I for one, do not want my partner to do something just because pressure told him or her to. DO NOT GIVE INTO PEER PRESSURE KIDS.

Like any rant, I need to really focus to bring my point home: stop expecting dumb bullshit and live for every day instead of commercialized American nonsense. (Do i sound jaded? I don’t care). let ur partner surrpise you, and you surprise them too. It is a PARTNERship afterall! Stop being so convinced that we need to fit into some particular mold.

Live and love the way you want to. And now I need to step down from my very slippery soapbox.

Feature photo VIA collegehumor.com.