Thursday, February 14, 2008

Veneral Disease AY!

Happy Valentine’s Day, bitches!

This one is for all you girls out there:

Valentine’s Day: the day we are told to celebrate our love for each other by buying seasonally overpriced commercialized crap. It’s the day that singles are supposed to feel lonely and those in relationships get to parade their love around for all to see. But it’s also the day that also happens to be Thursday. It’s Thursday, so I’ll be going to yoga, eating dinner with all of the girls, watching Lost and getting appropriately drunk, since I don’t have Friday classes.

You see girls; it’s just a day. However, the murmurs that could be heard echoing through my classes, hallways and the Brick Yard that was littered with Valentine’s balloons, could tell you differently. I either heard your sob stories of being alone for another Valentine’s Day or how you were so excited about all this cutesy stuff you boyfriend was doing (which a football player informed me in class today is only done so they get laid and won’t get yelled at).

Apparently, today is a big deal. Did I miss it? The singles didn’t care yesterday that they were single. It’s not like some guy was going to jump out from the bushes and ask you to be his girlfriend, so was it really that big of a surprise that you wouldn’t be spending this day showered in perishable gifts? I also don’t remember requiring a guy to be happy with my life, but I guess that’s you. And to those in relationships—do you really need a specific day to celebrate the fact that you love each other? I don’t know, I find the whole thing really foolish. If only we all could decorate shoe boxes again and pass around Valentine’s cards covered in our favorite Disney Princess to everyone in our class—even to the snot nosed brat. Now that’s a day I would celebrate.

I don’t remember how much I cared about it last year, when I was taken. I know I spent a great deal of time planning our meal and a great deal of money buying it, but I don’t know how much I cared about the day itself. However, I didn’t mind the Godiva. Any excuse for chocolate is all right with me. In the past though, I’ve taken many last minute dates for the big day that led to nothing and ended as quickly as they began. And I felt no more loved than I did before the date. So why do we all feel so compelled to have someone to spend it with? If I were asked on a date this year, I would have turned them down. I couldn’t be happier to be single this time around and I can afford my own dinner.

So as you all scramble to find a date, buy your last minute presents that will be 75% off tomorrow, or sulk in your despair over lonely single life, I hope you realize it’s just a day; a day that I look forward to being able to continue my routine of yoga, Lost and my friends.

Mozal tov!

Thursday, February 07, 2008

We're going to the chapel and we're gonna get divorced

I bitch, therefore I am

The blog has returned. After several requests to revitalize the blog, I decided it was time to show the world my potential to be a bitch again. Upon re-reading old posts, I would like to go ahead and apologize for the copious amounts of grammatical mistakes and the overarching lameness that many of the posts possessed. With that being said, I can assure you these will be much more articulated, extremely politically incorrect and quite clever.

This first rant idea came from Kaitlin Stock.

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As an official Facebook stalker, I keep tabs on all of your relationships (yeah, yours.) I watch your relationships become open ones that inevitably end in singledom. I see the pictures you post of you drunkenly making out with some guy that suddenly becomes your new boyfriend and even faster becomes your fiancĂ©. Oh but wait, you’re single again…for a moment, with a lame facebook status to accompany it. And then as if nothing happened, you’re engaged again. I question any engagement that shows its faults through Facebook, but more importantly that happens when you’re only twenty years old.

It seems like in the past year there has been a mad dash to getting engaged. Engaged! I don’t even want to start thinking about marriage until I’m thirty. I’m sorry, but what do you know about yourself at twenty and twenty-one, absolutely nothing my friends. I hardly know what I want for dinner or where I want to go tonight and those will be the hardest decisions I have to make today.

Premature Engagers!
It’s always the people who have been dating for about eight months that get engaged early, because they are “so in love”. You haven’t even had time to figure out all the things that bother you about the other person and considering you will probably get divorced after a year or so, I’m sure there are probably a lot.

Virgins!
The people who pledge the abstinence card tend to get married early. They’ll tell you they are getting married for other reasons, but you know it’s really because they are horny bastards and just want to have sex. Sex is not worth getting married for, EVER. Plus, you’re wedding night is really going to let you down. It’s going to be a painful two-minute pump and chump. I’m just saying, it’s cute you have morals and values, but one day you’re going to realize that it was pretty stupid to wait—especially when you realize your relationship is wrought with problems since you’re only together because you wanted to get laid.

Those affiliated with the military!
Why? Why is it always someone who is dating a guy in the Marines, Army, Navy, etc. that is getting married at nineteen or twenty? I’m sure it all goes to the fact that the husband to be is going to Iraq soon and wants someone to write home to and someone who loves them. But man, if I was going to Iraq and was a guy, I would be doing mad bitches until the day I left, then would go pork a lot of hot Iraqi women (despite the fact that Muslims don’t practice pre-martial sex). However, I can see where the guy is coming from, the girl though? Why would they go along with that? Oh hey, lets get married right before I get deployed, then you can sit around for a year or so while I’m gone and you can’t see anyone else. Great idea. Sign me up right now!

If I still had my Courtship and Marriage textbook, I could bust out some solid statistics on early marriages, but alas I don’t. I do remember though that the bottom line of all of them was that the divorce rate for young marriages is between 70-80 percent. Awesome, you can be a divorcee by 23! Hot.

The biggest problem I have with young marriages is the fact that you’re most likely poor.

When I get married, I expect a giant rock! I don’t want some discount ring from Ross Simmons. It doesn’t necessarily have to be covered in diamonds, it just needs to be fabulous and at twenty you can hardly afford the dollar menu at McDonalds. And as much fun as going into debt over a mediocre wedding would be, I don’t think it would be. Oh cute, mommy and daddy helped you pay for the ring and the wedding? Classy. I want to pay for my own wedding (I'm sure most people are going to disagree with that part) and my husband pay for my ring, so I can get what I want and not have to use plastic flowers and cheap food because we couldn’t afford better. (One of the weddings that I catered at St. Michael’s had plastic flower arrangements and uncovered plastic chairs at the tables; it was awful.) Maybe I’m just materialistic, but that doesn’t sound like a dream wedding to me; it sounds like a cop out.

My last irk goes to all those promise rings out there. First and foremost, those Irish Promise Rings (which I don’t see given a lot anymore, thank God) are ugly as shit. If I were given that as a promise ring, I would promise to never wear it. The promise rings I see more often look more like engagement rings and what I get from it is that the guy is promising to marry the girl, but isn’t proposing yet. Which translates for me as, “I don’t want you to do other guys and have to worry about you, so you’re on lockdown mode with this, without me really have to make a commitment.” By all means give me jewelry, but I don’t want promises.

Go ahead get married before you can even legally drink at your own wedding, go ahead and have boring missionary sex every night, go ahead realize you made a giant mistake and go ahead and get divorced before you can legally rent a car because it’s love and nothing can come between it; the rest of us would never understand. I rather be single and drowning in my own bills and problems than that and someone else’s. Maybe I’m jaded and bitter, but I do not envy your life for a minute.

(the only young marriage I could possibly condone is Amanda and Josh's because those freaks really are meant for each other)