Here I sit, another Valentine’s Day fast approaching. I have never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day – even when I was in a relationship - but being single during this holiday is a decidedly more annoying and alienating experience than is being attached and simply ‘above’ it all. Choosing to eschew the flowers and candy and overpriced dinners that are the hallmark of February 14th while being part of a couple is one thing; having to suffer through the parade of balloons, roses and horrid jewelry commercials as a singleton is quite another, and I know which one I prefer.
This coming Valentine’s Day will be my third in a row in the latter situation. Now that I am on the other side of 30, I am starting to have visions of a Bridget Jones-like existence sans Mark Darcy stretch out before me. Hell, I don’t even have a so-bad-he’s-good Daniel Cleaver on my horizon.
So it is this mind frame that contributed to what I have just done, which is to sink to a new level of
ridiculousness: I have entered a contest to have my virtual celebrity boyfriend
come play a private concert at my home on Valentine’s Day.
But really, it is the blizzard’s fault. If Baltimore hadn’t just been buried under 24+ inches of snow, my office would not have been closed today. If my office had not been closed today, I would not have been at home watching Ellen while wrapped up on my couch feeling sorry for myself, and would therefore not have known about this contest and could not have entered it.
But there I was, all cold and knees hurting, cuddled up on my big red couch feeling like the winter will never end, feeling like the winter that has become my dating life will also never end, when I saw it on the bottom of the TV screen: Go to EllenTV.com to win a private concert with Joshua Radin on Valentine’s Day.
Seriously? My reserves were too low to resist. My visions of Bridget Jones faded away and in their place was the image of me (thinner), draped elegantly across one end of my couch looking bewitching while a completely dreamy musician sang me love songs and stared into my eyes. So, in this fit of delusion, I trotted over to my laptop and typed up, in 1500 characters or less, why I should get the private concert. I believe my reasoning went something along the lines of 'He is dreamy, I am single, and I have RA. I deserve the concert.'
Clearly, I did this under the knowledge that I never win anything, so I won’t have to actually be mortified by the fact that I am behaving more like a 13 year old than a 31 year old were he to show up at my door, guitar in hand, this Sunday.
Except of course, that I’m sharing it with all of you here.
What can I say. I live for nothing
if not to provide entertainment to others at my own expense.