PSA: Valentine's Day

This is a Public Service Announcement

Look around you.

It's not difficult to see the signs.

The pain, the discomfort...you can see it in their eyes, in their expression.

One in four individuals are suffering from  Valentine's Day hate.  

And you, the one posting photos of that beautiful bouquet your normally douchey boyfriend sent, and you, taking kissing selfies on your romantic walk to that overpriced dinner, oh and you, with the status about how you and your man ordered pizza and are drinking beers because you are just "that kind of couple," this is your fault.  The anguish and the disgust that your single friends are feeling is on your shoulders.  Valentine's day was a harmless holiday until you romantic jerks and your social media started inundating the servers with your mushy garbage.  The good new is you can help.  For zero cents a day you can stop being an attention whore and keep your romantic gestures between you and your significant other.  

Email your sister? Ok. Text your mom? Fine. Instagram? NO. Facebook? NO. Twitter, Tumblr, Snapchat? NO.  Keep your stupid shit to yourself. 

The problem with this holiday is not the romance, nor the gift-giving, nor even the prescriptive nature of the whole ordeal.  In fact, I like Valentines Day.  I participate in Valentines day.  Sure it's just a way for Hallmark to make money, but I think it's a lovely little nudge to do something nice for the people in your life whom you care about. The problem is the blatant and over the top flaunting that makes people want to stab a pen through their own temples.  Someone loves you and that's awesome, truly, that's great, but there is no need to brag about it and make your friends feel dejected and/or nauseous.  I don't know if you're insecure and feel that you somehow need to prove to your community how important you are to someone or that you're just insensitive.  Either way nobody is a fan of your garish facebook status.  

So everyone, when tomorrow rolls around please don't tell us how "lucky I am to be in love with my best friend," or how you're "with the most amazing person that brings out the best in me in every way," or how fucking #blessed you are to have found that special someone.  Please just don't.  

Special shout out to my Valentine

Hey, baby.

Nude Prude

Earlier this week a dear friend of mine called to catch up, and while the gesture was lovely, I couldn't help but notice she was distracted by something.  

snap*snap* "FOCUS."
"Sorry...I am pissed...and I have an idea for your blog."
"...go on." 
"Old. Nasty. Naked. Women. Locker rooms. GO."

I was immediately thrown to the moment during my sophomore year phys. ed. class when I suffered my first full frontal.  There she was, stripped of her one-piece, standing in the yellow glow of the poorly lit rape-dungeon that was the girls' locker room waiting for an open shower.  For a girl who had only ever watched Featured Films for Families, I was paralyzed to see the first naked body outside of my own.  No one around me flinched so neither did I (having learned social ques earlier that week I'm sure), but that image is frighteningly burned into my mind.  Know how I know I'm straight...?

"Oh I have this."

Now days later, I'm not quite sure I 'have this,' but allow me to illuminate why being naked in the locker room is disturbing on more than one level.  

1. The Oldies
Listen, Pops and Memaw.  We get it, you lived through [insert traumatic world event here] and no amount of criticism will cause you the same anguish as [above event], but that doesn't mean you need to make us suffer the hazing ritual of looking at your saggy genitals.  You may be comfortable with your body, but it's a reminder to the rest of us youthful Adonises that, we too, will some day be as wrinkled and disproportional as you.  The condition of our bodies is fleeting and we know that, and we don't want your flabby ass in our face to remind us.  

2. The Fatties
Look, I'm glad that you're 'proud of your curves,' but unless your curves are cast in marble and guarded by two men wearing earpieces at the Louvre, don't flash them my direction.  Your indulgences have made you the way you are and my sacrifices have made me the way I am.  I'm sorry I'm not accustomed to cascading layers of tissue occupying the space where my abs should be.  Agree to disagree.

3. The Super Fit
Ok. Congratulations.  We're all jealous.  You've earned this, but you should know that apart from the few of us that admire you, most people want to shove your chiseled body into oncoming traffic.  You represent the things we want and just can't achieve because, gosh dangit, we f*cking love bagels and pizza.

4. The Average Joe  
You're naked because you want us to know how few shits you give.  Well guess what, we still give the same amount of shits about you.  Put your effing robe back on.

Honestly, if I went to the gym more often maybe I could provide a more exhaustive taxonomy of naked individuals.  However, I'll leave the type-casting for the comment section.  

I am not ashamed of my body, in fact, between scoring highly in the genetic lottery, my commitment to fitness and, frankly, my desire to be better than everyone else at everything, I am a pretty big fan of my body.  Nonetheless, I am not going to go streaking down your street or skinny-dipping in your hot tub (subject to owner of said hot tub/company), let alone stripping down to my shower shoes in a public locker room, so neither should you.  

Keep your clothes on, people.  You're making the rest of us squirm.

Couldn't find a towel, huh?