Valentine’s Day Massacre
by Sarah Hepola, Kevin Raub, John Gonzalez, and Elena Rover
1) Change all calendars that she might stumble upon to April. Begin
wearing shorts and remarking on how the weather is "so warm."
Barbecue outdoors. When she asks what you're doing and where the
two of you are headed for Valentine's Day, say things like "you're
crazy, honey" and "February was months ago; only crazy people would
say things like that." Emphasize the word crazy - because if
I know anything about women, it's that they enjoy when you imply
that they're mentally unstable. Then, change the subject. Tell her
Arbor Day is upon you, and that everyone knows "Arbor Day is for
lovers."
2) Break up. Then immediately flee - preferably to a country with
no extradition treaty.
Too Much … Okay, Okay, It's Not So Bad by Elena Rover
Even though wonderful things tend to happen to me on holidays - I
met my future husband on Halloween; my son got his first tooth on
Christmas Day - I am always stressed about the expectations that
come with any red-letter day. As if by magic, these designated days
are supposed to be exceptional. On Mother's Day, I'm to revel in
the joys of parenthood even if my toddler is throwing his lunch
across the room or woke me every two hours the night before because
his molars were erupting. On my birthday, I'm supposed to take note
of how different it feels to be one year older even if I feel
exactly as I did the day before (and to be honest, I don't feel
much different on the inside than I did at age six). Then there's
the biggest abomination, New Year's Day, ripe with "meaning" about
the year gone by and the one just beginning. Ugh.
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