Valentines Chub

Valentines Day is here yet again. February 14th, the day of the year that PDA runs rampant, Chocolate sales sky rocket, restaurants fill with love struck couples and Walmart sells millions of roses that die in under 12 hours.

Valentines Day and I have a long history together. In the 20 years that I've been around it has yet to impress me. In fact I'm pretty sure February 14th hates me.
Valentines day brings only jiggle for my belly and extra pudgey pounds.

I'll start at the beginning. 

First Grade; Littleton Academy Charter School
 Sheldon was the cutest boy in my class and the entire female population of the first grade had a crush on him. He had adorable blonde hair, was always picked first in P.E., towered over even third graders and (here's the best part) sat right next to me. 

I loved him.

 I had picked SkyDancer valentines that year, my brother picked Batman. (which I thought was stupid because batman has nothing to do with love and that's what V-day is all about) While I was addressing my cards and choosing just the right saying for all of my first grade peers I had a brilliant idea; I would confess my undying love for Sheldon via Valentine. First, I attached two boxes of nerds to Sheldon's skydancer valentine. I thought about it some more and decided that just wasn't enough of a manifestation. No, my love needed a real expression of sentiment yet needed to remain anonymous - that's when my plot became even more genius.

In order to execute my plan I would need a Valentine that couldn't be traced back to me, I planned to make my own giant heart with all my extra candy taped to it. Unfortunately I couldn't find any giant sheets of construction paper and I wasn't allowed to use scissors without supervision, so I improvised and stole a batman valentine from my brother. In my neatest handwriting I wrote
"I Love You, Please Kiss Me"
right next to his name and signed it "your secret admirer".

The next day in class I snuck the special valentine into Sheldon's Valentine box when no one was looking. 

After we had distributed cards I waited patiently as everyone dumped out their valentines, keeping my eye on Sheldon, just waiting for him to find my confession. 

He found it. Unfortunately so did the rest of class. 

A manhunt immediately ensued for whoever had the batman valentines.  I smirked as the class ransacked their valentines looking for a batman cards, I knew I was safe since all of the cards with my name on them were Sky Dancer, not Batman.
Then the class found Batman cards and it all went downhill from there. Shannon, the class tomboy who had actually taken off her shirt at recess in an attempt to be a boy, was also Batman's biggest fan. As a result of peer pressure and the free-loving atmosphere in Miss Collin's classroom, Sheldon decided to grant my Valentines wish. 

Only he thought it was Shannon's wish, so she got my v-day kiss and I got to spend my valentines recess eating all of my V-day Candy in the slide.
She didn't even like it.

Second Grade- 1998

After my heart was shattered in '97 I had forsaken love. Sheldon had moved away at the end of the school year and I had convinced myself I was never getting married. Boys had cooties. Luckily most of the 8 year old boys shared my aversion to the opposite sex.

Not Wade.

Wade was the red-headed weirdo that still ate mud and had worms for friends. He always got behind me when we lined up for recess. I did not love Wade.

On Valentines Day Wade was behind me in line once again. He tapped me on the shoulder. 

I ignored him. 

So he tapped me again.  

\He didn't answer so I turned around and BAM! He snuck a smooch right on my cheek. 

What happened next was all his own fault. 

I punched Wade in the face. 

He got a black eye and got to call his mom to come get him, I got sent to the Principal's office and indoor recess for two weeks. 

I ate all of the candies in the candy Jar while I watched the other kids play. 

Every day. 

For the next four years I kept a low profile as Valentines Day came and went, I guess Cupid thought I was traumatized enough, but when I hit the sixth grade he changed his mind.
 I decided to be a great friend that year and, while I had sworn off love after my scarring experiences, I could celebrate Valentines with my girls. Since my best friend Dana and I didn't have "boyfriends" to buy us cheesy gifts like all of our other friends did, I decided I'd provide the cheesy gift. I bought a bear that said "hug me" on a heart for my BF Dana, because i'm a sweetheart like that.

Problem, she saw me putting it in my locker that Valentines morning. 

Did I mention that I had a crush on Adam? I had a crush on Adam in the sixth grade. Logically it made sense that the bear was for him, and apparently it made sense to Dana too because when she found the bear in my locker at lunch still she decided to help my love life along. She put the bear in Adam's locker. 

Adam now had the bear. 

And all of our friends knew I had "given" Adam the Valentines Bear. 

Adam told me that he just "wanted to be friends" and didn't think "going out" was a good idea until we were older. He did this with a horde of preteen boys behind him and in front of 15 of my closest girl friends. 

I avoided Adam for the next month and my ego never recovered. Especially not after my mom made rocky road brownies to cheer me up and I ate 3/4 of the pan in twenty minutes.

Eighth grade:

I had an older boyfriend. He was in ninth grade. We held hands in the halls and hugged every day before getting on our respective buses. 

Valentines Day he decorated my room with rose petals and Hershies kisses. 

He gave me a heart bracelet and a teddy bear and I gave him a t-shirt and some chocolates. At last I had my perfect Valentines Day. It stayed perfect for a total of thirty minutes until I called him to tell him thank you and another girl, one of my friends, answered the phone. 

Chelsea also got a heart bracelet that year. Mine ended up inthe field behind my house February 15th. The two bags of kisses he scattered all over my floor, however, ended up in my belly.

I eat my feelings. 

Ninth Grade 

Boy gave me a hamburger and a milkshake. That he picked up on his way to my house at 11:45 P.M. 

He also wrote a poem: It goes like this - 

"What is a BIG MAC like you doing SHAKING with a SMALL FRY like me?" 

Naturally I ate them and my sadness. 

Tenth grade: I'm 80% sure I was single. My friends were not. 

Solution: Ice cream

Eleventh grade:

Solution: Even more Ice Cream

Senior Year:

I had a great boy, a thoughtful and specific gift wrapped and ready for him to open and high hopes of the perfect Valentines Day, and an even better night. (wink wink) 

I didn't see him at school that day, but kept my phone close by just waiting for the happy V-day text message. 

When he didn't make contact by 4:00 I texted him. 

He didn't respond. 

The perfect boy had forgotten all about Valentines day and went up to a cabin without service for three days. 

Heart = Broken

Stomach = Fully Functional ad Filling up. 

I ate LOTS of Ice Cream that year. 

2009 - Freshman year of college

The boy from the year before left on a sabbatical to Canada and I was so anti-male that I would purposely be mean to them in class. Nonetheless, my friend needed a wingman for V-day with a new boy and I, being the self sacrificing saint that I am, agreed to tag along.

My date had the longest bowl cut hair I've ever seen. It looked horrid. 

They made us dinner, which consisted of overcooked spaghetti smothered in four cans of ragu and some pre-sliced french bread from Walmart. 

they told us "they" were dessert.

Gag. 

They then forced me to watch a movie. 

They chose a scary movie, on Valentines day. Most likely this was a ploy to facilitate close seating arrangement and frightened clinging. 

It certainly worked, I clung to the edge of the love seat they made me share with hippy hair and he vehemently tried to pull me onto his lap. 

My friend owed me big time for tackling this grenade. (not that I tackled him, in fact I stayed as far away as the Loveseat permitted) 

She paid up in the form of her famously fattening cookies. That I stole from her house. 

I devoured 15 cookies just on the way home. 

And we stopped for Cadbury eggs. Because I love those. 

I doubt I would have fit on the Loveseat post-date. 

The suggested caloric intake for someone my height and weight is somehwere around 1700 calories per day. On Valentines day I unfailingly quadruple that suggestion and then sneak a few hundred more. 

Valentines day hates me. 

After lots and lots of days at the gym the V-day Weight will slowly unhinge itselft from my love-handles, but it always returns the following year with a vengeance. 

Since then I've barricaded myself in my house every February 14th, where I happen to be now, and I've decided to permanently re-name Valentines Day. 

I now refer to February 14th as the National Acquisition of Chub day. Because that's what we do, we acquire Chub. 

 No matter how your Valentines Day ends up, you'll be packing on at least a few extra pounds this year. You may not be guzzling four cartons of ice cream, which I may or may not have done last year.... but you're sampling those chocolates he gave you or trying to get your money's worth out of the $50 dinner he just paid for. 

So if my pants look a little tighter tomorrow, my curves are extra curvy or my cheeks look even more bloated than usual.... you know why.

Valentines Day hates me.  

One Line Deal Breakers

While wandering around in the world of mingling singles there are certain things that make or break a relationship. Some deal breakers manifest themselves over time; like a bad habit of chomping gum, habitual lying, the inability to clean up after ones-self, a secret world of warcraft addiction, complete and utter stupidity, an aversion to babies etc. 

Some things, however, are automatic deal breakers; One liners that guarantee things are over (or at least should be for most self respecting adults).

These single phrase relationship slayers can be lethal in any context, like "My ex was so much better than you" or setting sensitive. While commenting on how adorable your future children will be is perfectly acceptable after you've got the wedding band tan line, it is entirely inappropriate for a first date. Especially if you'd like a second. 

In case you haven't figured out dating taboos yet and the importance of timing, I've compiled this list of one liners to stay away from as you journey along your dating time-line. 

After You're 18

On The First Date 

After the Second Date

When You're Showing Her Your Place

After First Base 

Basically Anytime

Before He Meets Your Parents

\

After She Meets Your Parents

After Three Months

Ten Months After You're "Official" 

On Your First Anniversary

When You're Engaged

When She's Pregnant 

"Watch A Movie"

“What do you want to do tonight?”

“I dunno, I’m down for just about anything”

“let’s watch a movie”

Those are the four most confusing words in a non-committed dating scenario. There are so many opportunities that “movies” present for the budding crushees that, despite their reputation as the go-to easy choice, leave you with a headache from over mental exertion.

To illustrate, I have selected choice examples from my own awkward past.

 One winter night last January I was the only one home, horribly bored and talking to a boy. I mistakenly confessed the state of my dreary night to this friend and he suggested I come over, to “watch a movie”.

In my mind this boy, we’ll call him Trevor, was so far buried in the friend zone that he’d never dream of breaching the buddy barrier by busting a move. I expected nothing so I drove to his house to “watch a movie”.

The first sign of trouble came in location choice. Instead of choosing to “watch a movie” in the front room with all his roommates, who by the way had just popped in a DVD I had actually been wanting to see, he decided we’d watch something in his room where there was "more room"

I didn’t catch on.

Warning sign numero dos: he chose a chick flick. Chick flicks prey on female emotion. They extract all the lonely inside and slam it back in the form of guilt for not possessing the ability to mold a random stranger into the perfect Hollywood boyfriend. No girl can watch The Notebook or How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days without lusting for Mr. Right. Chances are, however, you’re not “watching a movie” with Mr. Right, so you settle for Mr. Right Now and end up canoodling for two hours before returning home still single and slightly sleazier than when your night started.

While I found the movie choice odd, I was just happy we weren’t watching one of the seventeen WWII documentaries lining his shelves and I, once again, did not catch on to Trevor’s schemes.

           

I started to get an inkling about Trevor's intentions when he pulled the first of his poorly conducted moves. He first attempted the hand inch. 

Normally the hand inch looks something like this:

Mutual satisfaction = Successful Hand inch. 

Trevor's Hand inch looked something like this:

A normal guy would have taken a hint and given up at this point, concentrated on the movie and talked to me much less in the future. 

Not Trevor. For better or worse, Trevor is a tenacious fellow. Instead of toning it back a notch, he progressed to a full fledged arm reach.  

When executed correctly the arm reach should resemble the following: 

The same result can be achieved via the pirate: 

 Trevor tried neither of these maneuvers. Instead he just squirmed his arm around my neck until it ended up behind me. 

I was not impressed. 

       

I improvised. 

He remained ignorant. 

I improvised with less genius this time. 

            

I spent the rest of the night as a contortionist, folding myself further down and scooting away from him with each adjustment. 

The next few days were spent with a crick in my back and very sore hamstrings, but I successfully evaded a potentially disastrous cuddle session and who knows what else. I wasn't looking for a cuddle buddy or any benefits from this friend, all I wanted was to be entertained for an hour or so and GO HOME! 

This experience led me to explore the cryptic meaning hidden beneath the phrase "watch a movie".

            

Sometime between the birth of movies and now someone discovered that the silver screen is a great excuse to get “close”. It used to just mean holding hands in the theatre but the world slid down the slutty slope and now movies are rarely used for anything more than a background while you romp around on the couch. 

I do not understand this phenomenon. 

The movie is distracting and the sound effects invite others in the house to join you. If the end goal is just to score why go through the charade of picking a DVD, discussing how great the film is going to be and waiting the appropriate time allotment before shoving your tongue down your date’s throat? Why can't we just advertise what we're selling instead of morphing movie night into make out bouts?

           

Obviously this isn’t always the case, but that's where the problem lies - it's not always the case. Nothing is ALWAYS the case. You can go into the situation expecting anything from two hours of cinematic artistry to two hours of jam packed action. This can only result in confusion and subsequent panic.  

            

Obviously the ambiguous connotation "watch a movie" carries is creating problems. I have a suggestion: If you want to actually watch the movie, make this clear. If you're only using the T.V. as a cover for your scandalous intentions, come out and say it. Save your poor date the confusion and clarify.