It’s almost Valentine’s Day!! A holiday fraught with two of everyone’s most favourite things – waxy chocolates and unfulfilled expectation.
To be a truly successful blogger you must, MUST celebrate each and every holiday with steroidal vigour. As if failing to create a St. Patrick’s Day themed dinner party complete with live leprechauns glued to your wall in the form of a wreath will result in a man named Rocco showing up at your front door with a baseball bat and an unhealthy obsession with your knees.
Actually, scratch the baseball bat thing, if he’s a blog enforcer obviously he’ll beat you with a piece of a broken down pallet accessorized with some washi tape.
There are two other things crucial to being a successful blogger. I mean it isn’t just about holiday frenzy.
The first being an ability to write. The second being an ability to photograph, manage, market, promote, beg, schedule, code, cry, recover, create, make, convey, invent and be perfectly content living for days on end without any real human contact beyond talking to your cat who you sometimes dress in pants because then it kind of feels like you have a co-worker, albeit a co-worker who never contributes anything significant to the business. So very much like upper management.
You get all those skillz down and you, my friend, WILL BE A SUCCESSFUL BLOGGER.
One of my attempts to make it into the world of successful bloggers was coming up with the cherry tarts I featured last week.
Why do these if I hate Valentine’s day? As I do. Because WOOOOOOOOOOOO it’s a holiday and we must all celebrate the holidays even if we don’t like them and think they’re stupid and would rather eat a bag of toenails.
#bloggerlife
The tarts are really good and really easy by the way. Nothing like a bag of toenails.
I do not like Valentine’s Day. I think it’s stupid and silly. And kind of embarrassing really; mostly for men. It’s a holiday that at its heart seeks to point out that men, if unreminded, would go years on end, possibly even an entire LIFETIME without buying their wives cheap, skanky underwear. That’s just dumb. Any men I’ve come across have to be reminded to NOT buy their wives cheap, skanky underwear.
Enter Valentine’s Day, which conveniently and concisely reminds men throughout the world that nothing better assures a woman that she is loved and cared for, than a man coming home from work, pulling a newly purchased Valentine’s Day card out of a plastic bag, signing it in front of her and handing it over with a self assured “I got you covered.” smile. Once a year.
If the inventors of Valentine’s Day were really serious about their job, the international symbol for it wouldn’t be a heart, it would be the silhouette of a man with a drill and a romance novel tucked into his toolbelt while taking out the garbage in front of the whole neighbourhood wearing a thong. Handy, romantic, well read, funny, confident and helpful.
But because I’m a blogger and wish to maintain my status of successful blogger I spent a lot of time trying to come up with a good Valentine’s Day DIY for this year. Maybe some food or a decoration or perhaps a recipe for how to make your own edible underwear. You know. Something classy.
I couldn’t do it. Really the only Valentine’s Day decorations I like are the super cheesy paper cutout hearts that you stick to your windows. You know, kindergarten type stuff. Which makes sense since I also like those old fashioned classmate Valentine’s Day cards which are just a cutout of a slightly misshapen cartoon puppy holding a heart.
You’d have to have the cold, cold heart of a man named Rocco to not love that.
It’s not that women don’t like romance or grand gestures or even chocolate.
There’s just something insincere about telling men, forcing them to prove their love through red roses and cheap chocolate on one of the 365 days in the year.
For most women the most memorable gestures of love rarely involve lace. Usually it involves a beverage. Like making you a coffee or pouring you a glass of wine, miraculously just knowing when you need it.
Maybe even on June 23rd. Or October 5th. Or noticing something that needs to be fixed and … just fixing it. At the very least calling someone and arranging to have it fixed. Now THAT’S romance.
And don’t even get me started on what a libido revver it is for a man to cup your chin in his hand as he draws your face close to his mouth and whispers “I want you to be in charge of the remote tonight.”
So for right now, I’ve got nothin’ for ya. No red wreath made out of cutout cupids, no chocolate beverage with a homemade heart shaped stir stick. No Valentine’s dinner, dessert, printout or cutout.
Nothing.
But if you’ve learned anything from this post you’ve learned that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.
ok, so as soon as I posted my comment, I saw all the 2021 comments
Sorry if I offended anyone.
Hmmm the article says February 2021 but all the comments are from 2017…
I agree with your sentiments but the same goes for Mothers day, Father’s Day, Secretary’s Day (for goodness sakes) etc Just puts a lot of stress on everyone to 1. remember, 2. try to outdo the siblings for gifts and cards, 3. Act like you don’t care if someone forgets you lol
Okay – so I’m late to the table. Let’s get rid of “Sweetest Day” also. Have told my fella “no crap, please” just install the gate at the kitchen doorway so the dog stops eating food off the counter! He did it – yesterday!!!
Awesome!!
I don’t know….I kind of don’t mind a day that nods toward chocolate, flowers and love in any form.
I’ve never gotten edible panties , which i guess says something about either me, or my husband, or both. If that were in the mix, I may have some VD anxiety or hatred bc I DOUBT they make organic edible panties, which is probably what I’d prefer.
Awkward segue to my mom…. my mom used to make this amazing Texas sheet cake throughout the year, but in a heart-shaped pan on VD. Good!
There’s usually wine on VD. Good!
There’s sometimes talk of a bath, which is always ultimately too much trouble bc spiders live in our bathtub that NEVER gets used in the guest room. But thinking about a bath while drinking wine is good!
I’ve also given each of my dogs Valentine’s Day as their birthday bc they’ve been rescued and no one really knows their actual bday. Then, back when we weren’t all hog-tied by a crap virus, I’d throw a dog bday party w flowers and chocolate and wine and heart-shaped cakes and dog treats. Good!
There is a way to go down the path of liking VD. 💕
Well I am not a hater on the commercial holidays but like some of you, I associate these commercial days with showing affection with the kids (now grown adults) but I love the colors . Reds, pinks, purples! On top of that, it was my husband that suggested, 31 years ago, we get married on Valentines day because….it will be easy to remember! Lol. But really, all commercial holidays aren’t a reminder to do something, rather an excuse to get creative and do something nice. For kids, neighbors, loved ones etc. I don’t expect my husband to lavish gifts on me and I never have. We were never one for long vacations so usually we would take a long weekend to go somewhere on our anniversary just the two of us. This year its just homemade dinner and a movie of his favorite things because of covid. And that is ok. My house is still decked out in reds and pinks though!
I used to complain to my husband that he never bought me flowers…so one year on Valentines day he surprised me with a dozen red roses. From a florist, not the gas station or the supermarket! When doing the laundry I came across the receipt…$63.00us! I almost hit him over the head! This was in the 1980’s (yes I’m old 63) I had to explain how yes I would like flowers but not on phony V day and how it would mean so much more on ANY other day. Even if it was just a daisy he picked from the yard on they in or yes even one of those gas station roses. I have gotten flowers again but never on V Day!
As always, hugely amusing!
I tried blogging a couple of times. Phew! WHAT A LOT OF WORK!
Hats off to you, Karen, and to all long-haul bloggers; unless you’ve tried it, you’ve no idea the amount of work involved. Please don’t stop. We all love you. Happy Valentine’s Day!
I used to hate St. Valentine’s Day, but somehow I lucked out in the partner department. He makes a big deal of it every year, he buys my mother and my best friend a dozen red roses each. A few years ago I mentioned that roses, red, white, periwinkle make my stomach churn, since then I have been gifted gorgeous bouquets of spring plum blossoms, lilies, rannunculas, and this year kangaroo paws. I am lucky. Also I hate chocolate. So I don’t have to deal with the waxy inedible chocolate heart. Tomorrow is waygu beef filet and a kick ass cab (my own kind of chocolate box).
Ha! Yes, I think the day stops being fun at around 10 years old…maybe less. My 7 year-old just asked the other day while filling out valentines for classmates “Why does valentines’ day have to be about love?” He was having a hard time finding the appropriate Mandalorian valentine card sentiment for his female classmates. I also hate Mothers Day. So dumb. Your dress, however is amazing!
AGREED! My fiance (though I cringe at that word for some reason) and I are getting up at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning to go fishing together in rain. That says love to me FAR more than waxy chocolates and pre-printed cards. Really anything says love more than that- cleaning the chicken coop together or just sitting around watching law and order. Or when I was single, having a night watching RuPaul’s Drag Race with girlfriends. That’s a Galentine’s day I can endorse!
Valentines Day is a sweet reminder to tell the important folks in your life that you’ve kind of been stuck at home with for a year that you love them, and want to share good chocolate with them. For the man I’ve loved for 30 years who shares the remote, does the dishes, and gets up early to feed the cats, for my teen and young adult kids to know mom deeply loves them, and for my widowed 89yo mom and 88yo aunt who love getting cheesy cards in the mail and miss being doted on by the loves of their lives. Keep it simple, love and good chocolate.