Worst Holiday to Be Single

MOLLY SCHOEMANN: I’ll never forget the year I had an awful break-up right before Arbor Day, of all days.  What horrible memories.  Everywhere around me on Arbor Day I was forced to listen to couples in love. “Which trees do you like, honey?  I like oak trees.  Let’s make out, yay Arbor Day!”

I was miserable.

Still, I suppose the year that I was in a crumbling long-distance relationship on Flag Day was also very hard.  While I usually love Flag Day, and send Flag Day cards to all my friends, I didn’t really feel like celebrating Flag Day that year.  I didn’t even pick a favorite flag.

Still, the worst holiday to be single on, bar none, has got to be President’s Day.  Not only do you have a whole long weekend to mope around, thinking about how all the Presidents had wives and often mistresses on top of that, but everywhere you go you are surrounded by loving couples kissing on park benches while wearing rubber Nixon and Reagan masks. 

Being single on President’s Day is a terrible waste of a perfectly good romantic holiday.  And even though it’s always in February, and freezing cold out, that never stops young couples in love from engaging in cloying displays of public affection as they hold hands and whisper sweet nothings to each other about the pros and cons of various US Presidents.

It might make me unromantic, or even un-American, but I really hate being single on President’s Day.

DANI ALEXIS RYSKAMP: ‘Tis true that being single on Arbor Day sucks. But it can’t hold a candle (cliche-pun-wordle-thingy intended) to being single on Christmas.

Every year, I arrive at the family Christmas party dateless, and immediately the barrage of questions and cheerful “advice” begins. “Why are you still single?” “Better hurry before you’re too old to have kids!” “Why haven’t you found a nice man/woman/antique fainting couch and settled down yet?” (My family is not what you’d call heterocentric.)

Every so often, I’ll try to finagle one of my friends into coming with me for Christmas, just so my family will think I’m finally dating someone and maybe let me take the giant red “D” (for “Dateless”) off my fabulously ugly Christmas sweater. But I haven’t had any luck there either. Either all my friends really are dating one another, or they want me to go to their family’s Christmas so that they don’t have to wear the Big Red D of Shame. But we both know that will never work. If I don’t show up to Christmas at all, my family will assume I’m at home eating an entire carton of Haagen-Dazs and crying into an entire box of tissues. (At least, they will hope it’s not the other way round.) And that’s even worse than being the dateless loser for another year.

Which raises the question: if I never have a date for Christmas, why am I always buying men’s ties?

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