Thursday, May 14, 2015

show me the meaning

Let's flashback to Valentine's Day, shall we?

There I was on the Day of Love, the only calm person in Smith's among the frenzied mass of last minute Valentine's shoppers. I made the mistake of venturing too close to the balloon/chocolate/flower epicenter of the store and got attacked by the strings of helium balloons covering the ceiling. I made a wide berth around that particular area after that.

You see, I wasn't at the grocery store to get something special for a special someone. I was there to get some forgotten ingredients for the bakeathon I had planned for the rest of the day and (somewhat ironically) to pick up a few last minute things for my roommate's boyfriend. FROM HER, guys. I ain't no home wrecker. Jess just forgot about getting a bag and such, so since she had to take a test, and I was already going to the store, I volunteered to help a sista out.

In summary: I was at the grocery store to get supplies for my #foreveralone Valentine's Day (which I was actually rather thrilled about, to be honest...) and to help my roommate have the perfectly romantic Valentine's Day with her new BF.

My basket was filled with sprinkles and powdered sugar and other baking essentials, and I was cutting through the frozen foods aisle to get to the Valentine's Day wrapping supplies when Backstreet Boys began to play. Normally this would have thrilled me to no end, but this time it stopped me dead in my tracks. I legitimately cocked my head to make sure I wasn't hearing things. I wasn't. Smith's was playing "Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely" as I was shopping for #foreveralone V-Day and my roommate's V-Day.

After a "SERIOUSLY, UNIVERSE??" moment, I began to laugh. Right there next to the frozen TV dinners. People walked by most likely asking themselves why this crazy twenty-something was laughing next to frozen lasagna holding a basket of baking items. After a minute, I appreciated the irony of the situation and went about the rest of my shopping.

I tell you this story because for what feels like the 9,873rd time, Pandora has decided to play "Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely" on my '90s pop radio station. I hadn't heard that song in YEARS and now it's everywhere. It's at the grocery store. It's on during the '90s flashbacks segments on the radio. And Pandora plays it over and over and over.  (and over and over and over)

I love me some Backstreet Boys, universe, but I think enough is enough. Care to stop reminding me that my bestie/roomie is abandoning me in less than a month so she can tie the knot? Or that my Randa is soon going to be all grown up and wifey? Or that countless other friends have rings on their fingers or are about to have rings on their fingers? MESSAGE RECEIVED, mmkay?

I promise I'm not anti-marriage. I love weddings, and I'm just tickled pink to get to be a part of so much happiness and love. Few things make me happier than seeing the people I love happy. Truly. But, dear universe (*cough* and BYU culture *cough*) it IS possible to be happy without a gleaming solitaire on my left hand. Promise.

So I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop making being single sound like it's equivalent to permanent residence in the seventh circle of Hell. Got it? kthanksbye.

PS. Here is a picture of a mere fraction of the tasty baked goods I ended my V-Day with. Not to brag, but I consider my bakeathon a resounding success.

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