If you, like me, spend an inordinate amount of time agonizing over the fate of divahood in American pop culture, this weekend was pretty tough on you too. Whitney, this one’s for you. In honor of the great Mrs. Bobby Brown, I’m bringing you some Valentine’s Day advice she expressed through song.
“I Will Always Love You”: Aw, here we begin, my personal favorite Valentine’s Day group. If you find the lyrics of this song truly encapsulate your feelings on Cupid’s day, obviously last night was a pretty big deal. You’ve said that “I love you” phrase; things have probably been going on for far too long, but hey, let’s play along. Usually I like to tread along the traditional path before unleashing my inner freak, so we begin with dinner, some wine and that awkward game of footsie everyone thinks that everyone else is so into, fucking weirdos. When we get back to the lair, though, shit gets weird. Fast. Both parties shell out the obligatory “Thanks for being (insert awkward compliment or pet name here)” before the sinning begins in earnest. Simple coitus does not suffice on romance’s most holiest of days, people; we need the full spectrum; we want you to wake up the next morning truly wondering where you went so wrong in life so as to have used your tongue in that manner. I’ll spare you the trade secrets, but I think you’ve got an idea of what’s required of Whitney’s most esteemed cadre.
“How Will I Know”: Everyone is familiar with this stage in the dating game after even just a few short weeks in Dante’s second circle, commonly referred to as Isla Vista. This is that time in a relationship where you’ve been getting casually acquainted with the smell of your significant other’s morning breath. What a glorious time indeed! You’re probably feeling a bit unsure as to what is the proper course of action to take; you’re not really sure if you’re picking up what they’re putting down, but just aren’t ready to completely accept the reality of being alone in your room sniveling about “The Notebook” and its portrayal of eternal love. It’s in this situation that a little liquid courage can really open some doors. Make it takeout, grab some flowers and two-buck chuck and rehearse your lines. The mood is key; if sufficiently contrived, you could wake up the next morning finding yourself in a compassionate relationship based upon honesty and caring, or end up with deep bruising on your neck from someone apparently fresh off the “Twilight” set. The gauntlet will be thrown down whether you like it or not.
“I Wanna Dance With Somebody”: Trust me, I believe every word about how much you love being single, how you don’t need anyone to be with and how Valentine’s Day is just some stupid holiday Hallmark created to sell cards and chocolate. You’re full of shit; you know it, I know it and frankly let’s just stop pretending for everybody’s sake. Don’t worry, Whitney had you in mind when she sang, “Oh I wanna dance with somebody / I wanna feel the heat with somebody / Yeah! I wanna dance with somebody / With somebody who loves me.” For this exact reason someone throws a party every Valentine’s Day consisting of gratuitous amounts of alcohol, dubstep and a semi-attractive girl or guy with just enough life in their eyes to allow you to delude yourself into thinking they’ll remember tomorrow what happens tonight. Go ahead, let yourself go; remember, you just wanna dance with somebody. No harm in that, right?
So if Whitney’s wisdom doesn’t suffice, consider yourself hopeless, utterly hopeless. It’s because of people like you that Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies” exists in the first place. You should be ashamed.
Jake Schurmeier is a fourth-year political science major.
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