exitstrategy

So, yesterday was Valentine’s day.  The day before was Friday the 13th.  I do not think it was a coincidence - well I mean obviously since the 14th always follows the 13th it is not coincidental.  But, I mean that to many single gals, Valentine’s day is quite horrifying.  In fact, there are a large group of women out there who run in fear from Valentine’s day - they go out of town, they order pizzas to their homes, they see chick flicks, or they take sleeping pills.  To these women, being single on Valentine’s day is the worst possible thing.  I mean, being alone for 364 days  a year is no big deal? I don’t agree with these ladies.  I mean being alone on Valentine’s is sort of like a novelty, a funny story.  Ha, I ate brownies in my jammies while watching Love Actually in the dark all alone.  Ha Ha Ha, I am so spinstery.  You can compare stories with your other single friends - oh Love Actually?  Nice, I went to have dinner at my parents house and ate 3 pink cupcakes, ha ha.  Oh, that is nothing.  I went alone to the naughty movie theater but I felt funny about getting popcorn cuz I was not sure about the “fake butter.”  (Why are you friends with that perv?!) Exchanging spinstery tales about the other 364 days a year is not as funny.  In fact, it is pretty sad.  That was what I realized last night when I was at a family dinner for valentine’s day (my parents, my sisters with their husbands and babies, and my uncle who is basically a stranger had dinner at barbie’s dream house.  As you can imagine, it was a dream.  The highlight was when my mom gave me a valentine’s day present in front of my two sisters holding their babies.  ”Spinsta, here is a gift.  I got one for your niece and nephew and one for you.  You know, for all my babies.”  And then she poked me in the stomach like my sister was poking her daughter.  I guess I will be moving back in with my parents and sleeping in a crib.)  One day of “funny” spinstering is nothing in the big scheme of things. Perhaps it wasn’t just the realization that I may be moving back in with mommy and daddy that helped me to understand the truth about Valentine’s day - that it is really not such a bad day.  Or, perhaps it was the TLC show I watched after coming home from my very Brady Valentines.  The show was called Little People: Just Married.  The show is about a recently married couple of little people.  He was a business man.  She was a neonatologist.  They both were afraid that they would never meet anyone, but at 34 they met each other and fell in love.  After seeing how in love the Kleins were, I suddenly felt very hopeful.  I mean if this women can find a Jewish little person, certainly I can find a Jewish non-little person.  After seeing the Kleins find each other, who cares about being alone on Valentine’s?

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