At least we’ve got Christian Grey to take away the sting of days like this. That’s bound to be good, right? (Then again, maybe not. These are just comments off the cuff.) Oh well, let’s see what I can whip up.
(sung to the tune of Iron Man)
I am cryin’ man (robotically auto-tuned)
Is love live or dead?
Muff the day and she’ll see red
Did he buy a card?
Spend the night in the yard
Never seen again
He is gone from her world
Heart-shaped box is hurled
Have a heart, will ya? At least I’m not going to regale you with ye olde standard complaints oft heard in relation to Valentine’s Day:
- Baby, I love you 24/7/365. It’s offensive to suggest we need a day for it.
- It’s a man-made holiday.
- The day is sadly over-commercialized by criminal elements in the greeting card business.
- There’s no heartfelt meaning in giving that which is expected under duress.
- Chocolates, cards, flowers, and diamonds are cliché. On the bright side, at least I’ve learned how to make accented characters with my keyboard and, thanks to modern technology, you can #selfie how trite this “codified ritual” has really become.
Yeah, I promise not to bring any of that stuff up. We’ve all heard it literally a million times.
Instead, why not break free from the pack and do something truly inspired, unique, revolutionary, classically romantic, and creepy? Like in a medieval sort of way?
I’m talking about, of course, a modern and romanticized d-i-v-o-r-c-e. It’s time to get with the times. Divorce. What’s not to love?
I believe I’m qualified to cover this subject. I don’t just write about life. I’ve lived it like every writer should. In this case that means my patented Seven Day Shotgun Divorce.
One of my wives and I were having a rough patch in our relationship. Like any reasonable people, we decided that I would quit my job in Los Angeles and move to a small town in backwater Oregon. Because, that’ll help, right?
After a year of small town living, one Friday we were having a typical fight. It was strangely subdued. It died down and there was a moment of silence where we simply looked at each other.
“We’re over now, aren’t we?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “We are.”
And that was it. The fight took place on a Friday afternoon. We celebrated the decision with an awkward weekend. Come Monday I hit the bricks looking for a new place to live. She went to visit a paralegal. She’s a pitbull. She gets things done. No shit.
Wednesday we signed papers in the paralegal’s office.
By Friday it was over. I had the jingling keys to my shiny new apartment (or is that shiny keys to my jingling apartment?) and the divorce was already signed by a judge and our marriage was officially over.
Seven days. Count ’em. Talk about a quantum shift of a paradigm change with a healthy dose of attitude adjustment. I barely lived through the process but that’s another story.
Don’t try this at home. I should point out that the Shotgun Divorce only works in cases where absolutely nothing is contested. You keep your kid, I keep mine. You get the house, I don’t. You get two dining room tables. I get none. That’s okay. I like eating on the floor.
Luckily this doesn’t have to happen to you. Recent advancements in divorce technologies are bound to make your experience much more pleasant.
Located in the heartland of Splitsville, DivorceHotel is a swanky resort and spa in Saratoga Springs, New York, which affords couples on the outs a way to say goodbye with style. As one couple described it, the process is like “splitting a bottle of red wine and getting massages between sessions with financial advisors.”
Who says romance is dead?
For a cost of $5,000 per package and $700 an hour for attorney fees, the hotel claims it is cheaper than a traditional divorce which “can take months and rack up $15,000 to $20,000 in fees.”
The goal of the stay? A signed divorce agreement and a commemorative t-shirt.
With pink slip in hand, you’re ready for the next step. Why not a divorce retreat travel package? The program takes place at Granlibakken Resort near Lake Tahoe. It’s in the mountains which, I’m sure, is not a metaphor for anything.
Your love life rejuvenation program will be attended by approximately 200 people and include 12 guest speakers. Attendees will “enjoy luxury suites, tennis courts, great food and the exclusive treetop adventure park.”
What can’t Pinterest do? Yes, they have a board for divorce cakes. Delicious. Nutritious. And fun no matter how you slice it. Cakes have layers. Ogres have layers. My cake is made out of onions. I picked up a lot of fun tips here. I can’t wait to put them to good use.
Source: Pinterest – Divorce Cakes
If, for some reason, you choose not to take advance of the most recent divorce technologies, you run the risk of something going seriously askew. Witness a divorce gone hilarious, circa 1999, after a family court judge attempts to settle a bitter dispute regarding disposition of the “children.”
One thing seems certain. There seems to be a concerted effort afoot to monetize all facets of the love spectrum. The heart of the matter is they like playing both ends against the middle. On one hand are the pushers and purveyors of candy, cards, jewelry, flowers, perfumes, tablets and travel. On the other, ingenious schemes to profit from the death of that very same love. Because things like retreats, hotels and overly-ornate cakes are costly. Almost as costly as the love they seek to terminate.
Today’s divorcing lovers have many more options than we did back in the good old days. The point is to be inventive, creative, think outside the box, and make it fun. Like always, be sure to bring your wallet.
Happy blood-themed holiday to you and yours.