New Year celebrations are done, resolutions all left on the way side, and the cold is starting to get a little unbearable. All everyone wants is some warmth (well, maybe not the Aussies,) and what’s more warming than love?
It’s a special time of the year, a time when love. commitment and devotion is going to be celebrated and revered as it should be…
With heart shaped candy from young and eager lovers hoping to hit third base, gorgeous mass produced cards in vivid pinks and reds from those incapable of romantic expression, sexy lingerie boxed with pretty satin ribbon and tagged with blow job hopeful notes.
Cupcakes, because in the end only Mom will really care.
It is a time when the eyes of newly weds are set to glow over candle lit dinner tables in fancy restaurants they cannot afford, when tears of joy are accumulating to flow freely into champagne flutes as 0.3 carat diamond chips nested in 18k gold rings are fished out with trembling and freshly manicured fingers, when single women will loathe the shit out of their non-single friends, curse the universe for every failed date they’ve ever had, as well as the asshole they loved with all their heart even when he cheated on them with a Megan Fox lookalike bitch.
When expectations are already running high in countless marriages and relationships, and the eventual ‘Spa Day’ (manicure only) gift card on the Breakfast in Bed tray will be perfect, so, SO perfect. Till, it resembles a crapped on rotten banana peel when compared to the gloatingly smug images of second honeymoon cruises and Tiffany trinkets which will bleed their way down Facebook timelines.
Roses, because every chick-flick he suffered through goads him to.
Once again, Ben & Jerry’s sales will go up, and heart shaped pizzas thanks to the losers who wouldn’t know upscale dining if it slapped them in the face with a leather bound menu. 50 Shades of She Marries the Asshole Anyway might become a blockbuster success, while HBO will try desperately to keep Sleepless in Seattle current.
Love songs and Taylor Swift, memes for the cynics, Twitter hashtags for the lovelorn, purple for misinformed feminists, red for enthusiasts, and ‘go to’ romance novels for the yearning.
Teddy bears, because that epidemic never dies.
Valentine’s Day is coming.
Anne is a fiction writer and blogger, and a former hotelier living in the sprawling coastal city of Karachi, Pakistan, with her husband, two kids and a pet fish. A city girl at heart, she likes her coffee strong, books always within arm’s reach, perfumes by the boatload, music of the old school variety, beaches sans the crowds, cozy cafes early in the mornings, and intimate encounters with Jack Daniels on Saturday nights.