Since my girlfriend has made it pretty obvious that she hates me, I decided that this year for Valentine’s Day I should do something romantic. I decided that for each day leading up to the biggest V-Day on the calendar (Victory Day isn’t nearly as important) that I would do something to make her smile and feel loved. She’s never seen The Simpsons and has no idea that Apu did something similar for his wife. Sometimes it pays to have a girlfriend who doesn’t know anything about pop-culture pre-2004.
(This is where I turn for love advice, a cartoon Indian convenience store owner)
I’ll try to leave the insults to a minimum here since this is one of my romantic gestures. You might be thinking that this isn’t very romantic. I agree. The thing though is that I had hoped to do as many of these gestures without spending any money. It’s about being cost efficient yet still making her feel like the wonderful woman she is. It lets me get more creative in trying to make her smile. And that’s what this is all about, trying to make someone I care about move her facial muscles upward.
What is it that I love about my girlfriend? Sorry, I threw up a little bit after typing that. The word love is such a strong word. I’ve had people say it to me so carefree. A girl told me she loved me because I let her borrow a pen. That must have been some pen. Or she must have really been abused badly at home where my handing her a pen was like delivering her child in a dangerous situation without complaining. But it’s different with this girl. When we say “I love you” I knew that we mean it. It’s actually real and mutual. Not like that girl with the big mole on her face who told me she loved me after one date. Really? All you’ve done is insult me then write about how you don’t want to see me on your Xanga page. I really hope you’re dead in a ditch somewhere.
(Please find her body here. Please find her body here)
A few of my favorite things about my girlfriend are as follows: she has a great sense of humor. That’s always important to me. I can’t be around someone who cringes at mentions of certain words even when in joke form. She’s pretty funny too. Not funny like me. I’m clever funny. I’m so funny that the funniness spreads to the way I look. She’s funny in the way that she’s always willing to take a splash onto the ground for a laugh. I’d compare her to Chevy Chase in funniness but I’m not sure she even knows who that is. He was famous 10 years before she existed.
Something else I adore about her is how goofy she is. I guess that’s the same thing. Christ, when I think about it maybe there’s not much I like about her. I’m just kidding of course! I’ll talk about the way she looks. She’s got great style. She always dresses nice even when she doesn’t realize it and knows how to put makeup on her face well. Even better, I don’t realize when she’s not wearing makeup. I still like the way she looks. That’s a pretty good compliment. Most women look like a crusty fist without makeup on. Not my special lady. She looks as beautiful as something beautiful. I’d say a sunset but we live in New Jersey. When we see a sunset it doesn’t take place over the ocean. It takes place over Pennsylvania. Not exactly the Mecca of beauty.
She’s got great taste too. I may have influenced her on a few things, but even before I corrupted her with fandom of Oz she was pretty well-to-do. Yeah, I had to explain to her who Ray Davies was and True Blood is her favorite TV show despite not viewing after season one. And I also am pretty sure she’s a closeted Avril Lavigne fan all these years later. It’s okay, your secret is safe with me and everyone reading this.
(She looks pretty hot here especially for having a face of a 12-year-old)
The most wonderful thing that I like about her is what a talented writer she is. I know, if I ever get her pregnant she’ll give birth to a regular Mark Twain. Or if we’re really lucky a Clark Kent. He not only was a talented newspaper writer but also a man of steel. My girlfriend has never called me a man of steel. Probably because I’m not. I can’t deflect bullets nor do I have allergic reactions to Kryptonite. I’m allergic to lots of things, but not that. Superman is a pussy. I’ve tried to get her to start a blog lots of times, but I guess she’s too busy getting paid to write. Bitch. The most fun thing I’ve ever gotten paid to do was taste test gum. And she did it with me so she’s still winning. Ugh I hate her.
Sure, we fight sometimes. No relationship is perfect. But the things we fight over are who silly like who is better looking or which of us has the better chance at one day becoming president. I say her, she says me. There’s nothing I can’t tell her. I know that sounds like bullshit, but it’s true. It goes both ways too. There’s no fear with her. There’s no hiding a thing. It’s a great feeling to know that I never have to be afraid of anything with her. She won’t judge me and I don’t judge her. Like nerds, we have pretty much developed our own language. Most of it contains random sounds and inner-city slang. Still, it’s ours. Only we know how to speak it. I can’t see myself ever wanting to be with anyone else–in a non-sexual situation. She knows that though. We’re not going to lie that we’re attracted to other people in the most filthiest of ways. But we do know that we love each other. We’re best friends who have plenty more life to share with one another.
(From the Superior vena cava to the left ventricle, my heart belongs to you)
I love you “Drunk Moose Stuck in a Tree”