Bearcat (n): 1) an arboreal civet with a long prehensile tail; 2) (informal) a hot-blooded or fiery girl; 3) a group of lady comedians from Boston
Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. I haven’t cared too much about the “holiday” since high school, when you could get a carnation sent to your homeroom if someone liked you. White meant it was from your friend, pink was from someone who liked you more than a friend and red was from someone who loved you. Usually the hot girls would get a ton of red ones and act surprised that their boyfriends sent them.
I hated homeroom every February 14th. I never got one flower.
This past February 14th, I woke up late (comedy makes me drink, I have no choice) rushed to the T and caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the window. I looked like a homeless woman. My first thought was “What am I doing with my life? I can’t even get up with enough time to brush my hair for work.”
I got on the T and saw on my phone that I had an email. The subject read “Happy Valentine’s Day!” and it was from Erin. The email was short and sweet, but it basically said “I love you guys and love that I get to perform with you”
What followed was a flurry of emails from the Bearcats celebrating our love for one another on a day that I’d bet we all agree is the dumbest holiday ever created. There were jokes, there was an innacurate but hilarious short story of how we all met (Jackie is destined to be an accomplished novelist/screenwriter) and there were swear words. The one thing all of the emails contained was a of declaration of love for each other. Simply put, it was the most romantic email chain I’d ever been a part of.
There are women my age (I’m a young 34!) who are miserable because they’re single. Those women are waiting for their lives to begin. Me? I’m so happy with all I have and do that I’m tired all the time. My life is so full I don’t know how I’d fit a guy in (that’s what she said). I guess he’d have to be pretty great. He’d also have to be ok with me being in a committed relationship with 9 ladies that he will never be funnier than. Ever.
With love and without carnations,