Tag Archives: Valentines Day

Don’t Mention The ‘V’ Word

happy valentine's dayDuring the first week of January (when I went to stock up on Creme Eggs), I briefly thought about boycotting my local newsagent.

On leaving the store I was brutally confronted with a huge display under the banner ‘Winter Essentials’.

Alongside the de-icer, Arctic-proof gloves and those grip things you attach to your shoes, was a stand full of Valentine’s cards, plastic red roses and cheap teddies holding sateen hearts. Pah.

So having a significant other is now a Winter Essential? Double pah.

Not long after, I had an email offering me and my significant other a ‘truly romantic experience on that most romantic day of the year’ at my local gastro-pub. A glass of cheap sparkling wine on arrival, a wilted red rose for ‘the lady’ and a three course lovingly-prepared meal to ‘tingle the palate’. And all for only £42 a head. Are they having a laugh?

The evil-singleton side of me toyed with the idea of schlepping along on that most romantic of days, sitting in the bar and watching awkward couples crammed into the restaurant. But that’s a bit mean. Isn’t it?

Maybe I should launch myself back onto the dating scene? There’s a few problems with that though:

  • MS
  • I still dress like a student and don’t wear strappy heels. And I haven’t mastered the art of a sophisticated up-do.
  • I would yawn my way though dates, and not solely because my companion is regaling me with tales of his pot-holing.
  • MS
  • I still need to lose a few stone pounds.
  • MS

My friends and family are very encouraging though. ‘It’s not about the MS, it’s about you, who you are.’ ‘You have lovely eyes.’ (what they say to fat people). And my ever-adoring son, ‘Have you sent off your application for the next series of The Undateables yet?’

Well I reckon we should scrap Valentine’s Day. Let’s have a new celebration, Singleton Day. This would involve buying an M&S meal-deal for a tenner (including a bottle of wine) and scoffing/quaffing the whole lot on our own, with ‘I Will Survive’ playing on a loop in the background. We could encourage our friends to send us boxes of chocolates to help us ease the pain. Three layers of mascara would be an essential, all the better to show our tears with.

So spare a thought for us sad, lonely, slipper-wearing, talking-to-the-cat peeps. And all donations of recycled men gratefully received…..

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Flowers, Who Needs ‘Em?

Yes, as you’ve guessed by the blog title, I am a singleton on Shameless Commercialism Day Valentine’s Day. But the good news is, I had a Valentine’s card!  The bad news is, it was from Tom,  the 89 year old pensioner I check in on.

Well, at least I’m not working in an office any more. Long gone are those awful days when everyone else received  bouquets of flowers, accompanied by ‘oh, I didn’t know that was going to happen’ squeals from various women jumping up and down at the sight of a few roses.

The same women who, a week earlier, could be heard saying in the toilets, ‘…I’ve told him, if he doesn’t send me flowers this year, he can whistle for, you know…’

Now my inadequacy is shared only with the cat (she watches the letterbox every day) and she’s on my side. I whinge to friends that I hate the tacky commercialism of Valentine’s Day and my heart sinks when all the gooey stuff appears in the shops just after Christmas. No sooner have the ‘Merry Christmas, my squidgy, squashy Boyfriend’ cards been packed away, I’m assaulted by a sea of red and pink. And roses. And fluffy little teddy bears with ‘I Wuv You’ scrawled across their chests.

And what’s this whole thing with chocolates? Oi, loved-up people, you get the flowers, you get the meal out, you get the jewellery. Can’t you keep your smug little paws off the chocolate – it’s for  us single ladies. See it as our consolation prize.

Of course, if I was loved-up, I would be starry-eyed with rapture at being presented with a dozen red roses, a Tiffany necklace and a huge box of pralines (my favourites). I would benevolently smile down upon the lesser, single mortals, with pity and not a little smugness. May they too find love, poor, sad, lonely peeps. But I’m not loved-up, so I can’t. Sniff.

This Valentine’s Day then, I will mostly be listening to ‘I Am Woman’ (over and over again), hoovering up the Maltesers I stashed away from The Teenager and sitting on the sofa in my comfiest, slobbiest pyjamas. I may even put a face pack on and paint my toenails. Valentine’s Day? Meh…

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Back to life, back to reality

Christmas and New Year are well and truly over and it’s back to work today. I am torn. Part of me is excited and full of plans for the year ahead, yet  part of me will miss the lovely unreality of the last few weeks. After a truly terrible year, it was a chance to kick back, relax and recover.

Aside from celebrating Christmas, catching up with friends and family and all the usual over-indulgence, Christmas is an excellent excuse for suspending real life. Normal routine is put on hold and I could say, ‘oh, I’ll do that next year’. Well, now it is next year and reality is breathing down my neck. Even though I worked between Christmas and New Year, it felt different, as there were still ongoing celebrations to look forward to.

Christmas time cushioned me in magical possibilities. Dreams can come true and weird and wonderful plans were discussed late into the night, the Christmas lights twinkling softly in the background. I will be taking them down in the next day or so and will miss them and all my lovely decorations. Oh, and the chocolate coins and Christmas cake. I will miss the sense of expectation in the air. Stripped of the Christmas trappings, life comes back into sharp focus once more.

Anyway, I guess it’s time to concentrate on the here and now. The Teenager comes back from London on Saturday and normal routine will definitely be back with a rude bang – the schoolwork, the laundry, the rugby matches, the grunts, the mysteriously vanishing food. My final year at University starts in February and I will be knee-deep in study notes, essays and books.

Does anyone else find January a dreary and grey month? The only thing to look forward to is Valentines Day. If you have a partner. Which I don’t. I was joking with a friend the other day about how hard it would be to find a new man in my situation. If it was tricky enough before being diagnosed with MS – 30-something, divorced, single mother – imagine my lonely hearts advert now: 30-something, divorced, single mother and oh, by the way I have MS. I mean, what are the chances?


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