The Valentine's Day gift giver's worse nightmare... me.


I am the Valentine's Day gift giver's worse nightmare.

Because I hate everything...

And product marketers are so good at making men think they need to buy all the stuff I don't like, that every year my boyfriend is out $100 and I'm overloaded with all the cellophane wrapped crap I hate.

Let's talk jewelry.

I'm too irresponsible to wear it. I can't even keep track of my wallet half the time and it's ten times larger than the jewelry I lose.

I have six pairs of unmatched earrings that I sometimes try to wear on one ear, if I cover the other ear with a piece of styled hair, nobody will notice. And if someone wants to take a picture that night, I'll just tilt my head to show the earringed ear. It's better than just letting the un-mated jewels hang out in my jewelry box right?

On to chocolates.

I hate chocolate. Unless I'm premenstrual, and then I think I like chocolate until I actually eat a piece and then I instantly remember why I hate it. Those candy hearts are no better, does anybody really think they taste good? I'll never figure out how someone is making money on those little heart shaped chalk pieces. You really can use them on a blackboard.

Flowers.

The truth is that I love getting flowers, but I'm such a bad nurturer that I can't even make dead flowers last more than a day or two. So, I get flowers and I'm so happy at first, but then the next day when they're all soggy and floppy, I panic when I look at them thinking, "I'll never be a good mother."

Plush toys.

Damn you Vermont Teddy Bears for your insanely effective marketing campaign.

Yes, they're cute, but no, they're not worth $79 dollars plus shipping. Also I'm 25 years old, I've outgrown toys like stuffed animals and NEWSFLASH, now I'm into toys that you can only buy online and that come in plain white paper boxes that are "discreetly shipped."

Like, where in my life can I fit a silly looking teddy bear? It sits on my shelf, collecting dust, and every time my dad's-girlfriend's-daughter's-daughter comes over, I try to get her to take it home, because she's two, an appropriate age for stuffed animals. Not 25, like me.

Perfume slash cologne.

I pride myself on the fact that my Facebook friends have voted me "Nicest smelling," because I smell like a stripper when I go out on the town. I have enough body lotions, polish, scented dusty powder puffs to stock one of those Scent-sations kiosks at the mall. So if someone buys me perfume, I probably already have it. But of course I'd like some more...

And nice smelling men, drive me crazy. Like sometimes, if I catch a whiff of really good cologne as a man walks by, I'll actually follow the scent like an AXE commercial, nose in the air like, "What is that smell?" <--- This is another tangent, damn that ADD.

Valentine's Day dinner.

It's a nice thought, but actually going out to dinner on Valentine's Day is a nightmare. Every restaurant is jam packed, no parking, lots of waiting around, even if you've got a reservation -- the chefs and servers are so overloaded with tables that the food is going to be sub par. Promise. If you're not picky like me, and you can stomach cold mashed potatoes then go for it, but I don't like crowds and a loud, full restaurant is the least romantic thing I can think of.