Romance? No thanks, I'll pass.... by Elizabeth Weaver Engel
There's a new trend in Valentine's Day (well,
at least in my office, but that won't stop me from making a sweeping
generalization): couples not celebrating. I have no problem with singles not
celebrating, or even being bitter and bitchy. Some of my best V-days have been
spent with my girls, wearing black, buying ourselves candy (stuff we liked -
like Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and Snickers bars - instead of those
unidentifiable bits of odd-colored, artificially flavored, low-grade-chocolate
coated dreck), renting every "love stinks" movie we could think of (including
the ever-popular Fatal Attraction), ripping exes to verbal shreds, and
mercilessly mocking whatever the top bubblegum pop love song was. We were even
known, in college, to pelt overly-mushy couples with Fruit Loops (dry, of
course) in the caf. Immature? You bet. But good times, indeed.
Today at lunch the talk turned to holiday
plans. Of the group present, three are married (including me), two are in
live-in relationships, one is in a long-term relationship, and one is single. I
was expecting some fancy home-cooked dinners, maybe somebody going out to a
nice restaurant, some flowers delivered to the office, speculation about
waiting boxes of chocolates, giggling about boxer shorts with big red
hearts...something. I was about to jump in with our plans: after our respective
work outs (yeah, I know, that's really anal, but I can't help it, I have races
coming up), we'll put on La Traviata and make a fancy dinner together, while
sipping large glasses of red wine. We said no big gifts this year (since we
already spent a substantial sum on something V-dayish, and no, I won't say
what, even if you ask nicely), which means that spouse will bring home Godivas
and flowers, and I'm giving him something I made myself (I'm also not saying
what). But I tend not to speak up first in the lunch room, which allows me to
test the waters of the conversation of the day first. Am I glad I kept my mouth
shut. "We don't celebrate V-day!" sniffed married-six-months coworker. "We
agreed not to exchange gifts this year. I made him cookies, but no gifts,"
assured live-in coworker, "I hope he doesn't feel bad about not getting me
anything." Assent was given all around that V-day is stupid, sappy, Hallmark
manufactured, and puts too much pressure on everyone. All these coupled people
were virtuously not participating,. not allowing crass commercialism to intrude
on their pure love. Why do we need a pre-arranged day to celebrate love,
anyway?
I'll tell you why: every day life can grind the
romance right out of your romance. Between the job, the house, the running
schedule, dancing, and trying to perform the basic functions of life (buying
groceries, doing laundry, going to the bank and dry cleaner), you have to work
a little to keep the spark alive. And we don't even have kids! I don't see that
setting aside one day a year to concentrate on that is a bad thing. Sure,
having a particular day with all sorts of expectations, many of them unspoken,
attached to it creates a huge potential for disappointment and hurt feelings.
But it can also provide just the kick in the patoot some of us need. The
advertising juggernaut *does* make you think: "You know, it's been months since
I've brought home flowers," or "We haven't been to our favorite restaurant
since last summer," or "Well, I could buy yet another boring white cotton bra,
but why don't I get this black lace one instead? It's winter - I'm wearing dark
colors." I don't really see that refusing to be sucked into doing something
sweet, naughty, sappy, and romantic is admirable, and I think it's sad that
couples are making complete pragmatism a virtue in their relationships at such
an early age. Sure, I know that a red satin push-up bra and hotpants do not
qualify as practical undergarments, or practical winter time night wear in
anything but tropical climates. But sometimes you just have to turn up the
heat.
Elizabeth Weaver Engel welcomes your
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