I always like to imagine how this day will pan out for me, like in the way Mindy Khaling likes to write her show, making tons of quintessential romantic comedy references.
It wasn't until 2011 that I had an actual legitimately romantic Valentine's Day. The boy and I spent the day in Chicago, ate delicious food at Ben Pao, watched the Illusionist at the Music Box Theater(back when I didn't even know where that was!) and ate wonderful Molly's Cupcakes. =) I loved that day. Even though it didn't work out with the boy, I was happy that we did remain good friends.
The year after that, I spent Valentine's Day at work, in a bakery, selling heart-shaped cookies to the point of wanting to curl up and die somewhere in the corner. Oh yeah... and let's not forget how I ruined a $400 cupcake order because the cupcakes didn't have the VDay-themed frosting. I clocked out, rushed to the gym for a 5.5 mile treadmill run, watched some Glee and picked up delicious Indian Food for myself. It felt heavenly. But I also ended up getting a drink with that same boy from last year, as friends.
Now this year, the day before VDay... I'm in the same place, sort of. Single... having a crush on the same boy as last VDay, and still hoping he'll notice me while I try and distract myself with other boys. I'd said "screw it" and bought a ticket to a Singles Mixer at Vapiano's sponsored by CARA. This morning I was ready to hop out of bed and be productive, but I instead put on my running shoes for a sunny 40 degree day and ran 12 miles instead of the 8 I was planning to do. I thought about a lot of things... my career opportunity with MATCH and how I easily doubt myself, my money issues, my multiple creative projects that might never get finished ontime... and it felt really good to just run and feel limitless.
I went home, got ready for the mixer and spent some time at the same bakery as last year, reading and drawing Owl City (my celebrity crush) for a Tshirt design I have in my head. And... since the bus was taking forever and even passed me on the way, I said "screw it" and walked all the way to Vapiano. I was frustrated, but tried to compose myself for this thing. Anastasia, the Russian hostess, spoke bad English and escorted me to what I thought was my Singles Mixer, but looked like a Speed Dating event. Weird? What was funny was that I would've gotten into this event (with really cute guys!) had I not corrected the leader that my name wasn't in fact "Klara" but Sandra, and I had just asked if this was the "CARA event." What are the odds that she would've been waiting for a "Klara" and I had just happened to be there? Why didn't I just... go with it? Could I have met some great potential guys? But I changed my own fate, because... believe it or not... this year I made a goal to Do The Right Thing. Not be a Rat. Believe in Good.
So, instead, I got sent to the Singles Mixer. It didn't take me a second to look over to the other side of that restaurant that it was clearly a different kind of crowd. No bells. No timers. Casually-dressed, albeit very athletic-looking people. Most of them were girls. The guys were... older, with receding hairlines, and looking very awkward. Nobody welcomed me into the party. It was like I'd been late for the first day of kindergarten and the kids were already mingling, talking about sleepovers and barbie dolls and their favorite flavor of Mike & Ike. Only this time it was more about TriAthlons. Ironmans. I was getting easily amused by this one girl with sleek blonde hair, noticing how tightly she was folding her arms, while the guy who walked around the whole table just to talk to her tried to fish for small talk. Ah, the true Singles Mixer champion. I wanted to slowly creep away of that table just as invisibly as I had come into it, having dreams about calling CARA for a refund because of my less-than-satisfied experience... but no. I stuck to it. Because in days like this, you gotta make best with what you got. So I talked to this one guy, A.J. for a good hour, invited him out to Second City improv and ended up having a grand ole' time as awkward Singles in Chicago should have.
It's just a dumb holiday, anyway.
