The Valentine's Edition

It's Valentine's Day, y'all. Some of you have had Valentine's Day all week because you've been snowed in and were boo'd up at the house. Good for you. I hope you're happy.

(Ignore the implied bitterness there; it was a joke.)

Happy Valentine's Day! I sincerely hope that those of you who were trapped in the house with your significant other all week are not now so sick of them that you're thinking about returning those chocolates, or whatever it is that the Boo'd Up buy each other on V-Day. I am not boo'd up, nor have I ever been, so I have no idea.

(That wasn't bitterness per se; more like the deep breath before the plunge)

This year, I'm single on Valentine's Day. For that matter, I'm single every Valentine's Day. No one make comments about how sad that is. I honestly don't care. At the same time, there comes a point in a girl's life where she has to wonder if it's normal that she'll be 25 in 8 months and has never crushed on anyone less famous than Joseph Gordon-Levitt (seriously guys he is so cute). It's easy to buy into the unmarriable/unlovable Black woman trope when it's been a quiet understanding from the last few guys you might have been into that you weren't what they were expected to bring home to Mama. Y'all know what I mean. It's easy to feel like you're doing something wrong in your life when you're the last single cousin and your relatives tell you every chance they get, "I can't wait for you to get a man; you'll feel so much better."

But that's not me! Not today it's not! Y'all post all the cute "Look what bae got me" pictures on Instagram that you want. I'm going to get myself a new book to read now that the roads are clear, I'm going to pick up something cute for my mom, and I'm going to flex my culinary chops in my really great but underused kitchen. I have 3 words for y'all: Turtle. Brownie. Pies. That's right. Be jealous. Again I say happy Valentine's Day. And since literary humor is fun....