Nina In New York: Post-Valentine's Day Thoughts
A young professional's take on the trials and tribulations of everyday life in New York City.
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By Nina Pajak
Oh. Was yesterday, like, Valentine's Day or something?
Huh. How about that?
Not to be all bah, humbug about it, but I'll tell you what we did: laundry. Also, I spent the morning with two sofa delivery men who very nearly sent me to an early grave. Romantic.
Aside from all the well-worn idea that V-Day is a "Hallmark Holiday," I dislike it for other reasons. Namely, I hold a grudge.
It stops being fun when you're about twelve years old. I'd wake up on Valentine's Day filled with a mix of dread and misguided expectations. Then I'd sit in class after class and watch the same girls receive carnations and balloons and act shocked and embarrassed each time a designated Valentine's Day booster delivery kid would knock on the door and call their names. Feh. My bitterness was such that I swore to myself that one day, when I no longer had a reason to feel lonely on February 14th, I would not so quickly forget what it felt like to be single on that day. And though it's been a long time since then, it hasn't been that difficult to keep my promise.
The displeasure this holiday has needlessly caused me in the past and continues to cause for others is in no way proportionate to the pleasure it brings when one is in the position to celebrate it. Why should an arbitrary day in February make a perfectly rational girl want to get under the covers at 7:00 PM and binge eat an entire uncooked log of cookie dough without any utensils? Why should there be yet another date on the calendar that forces couples into arguments over nothing:
Man: But, you said you didn't want flowers.
Woman: Right. But you could have surprised me.
Man: With flowers you didn't want?
Woman: Well I would have liked them if you'd have surprised me with them!
All it does is cannibalize perfectly good opportunities for juicy, morally-justified fights, like anniversaries and birthdays. Especially anniversaries.
The prix-fixe meals, the tacky decorations, the overblown and uninventive displays of public affection, the ostentatious coworkers parading around with roses and chocolates like they've just been sent the Hope Diamond instead of the corner bodega special—no, none of it is for me.
Valentine's Day's only saving grace is February 15th, when observant couples produce a windfall of leftover chocolates, brownies, cookies, bon-bons and candy in the office kitchen. Sweets are always best eaten when no trace of irony remains. Score.
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Dear Readers: While I am rarely at a loss for words, I'm always grateful for column ideas. Please feel free to e-mail me your suggestions.
Nina Pajak is a writer and publishing professional living with her husband on the Upper West Side.
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