Kaetlin Perna
February 16, 2007

L'amour is looming in the air. Late for work, I watch a man waiting by the doors of the 1 train with a dozen roses in hand. I'm single - this should make me feel like screaming bloody murder and deeply bitter, but it doesn't. This is not two nights prior when I spewed "a**holes!" to the couple dry humping on the train ride home; I smiled. Maybe it's because deep down I'm a romantic, lovey dovey person, maybe it's New York, or maybe it has to do with my eggs dropping currently (stay back boys!), but this year was different. Last year, I got a card from my then boyfriend that said that I made him "happy" and we ended up breaking up weeks later. Valentine's Day did not suck for me, not in the least.

I was at barista training, learning to make the perfect latte, as required by the company I work for, Oren's Daily Roast - obnoxiously flirting with my engaged trainer (didn't know he was engaged at the time - I'm not that shameless) when I received a phone call from my roommate, Sarah. "Hey what's up?" I answered. "I have two tickets to the Daily Show today. Do you want to go?" Hell yeah(!) was my answer. So at 3:30 p.m., I rushed from 81st and 1st, through a slew of subway transfers and ran four large blocks and two small blocks to meet my roommate at the corner of 11th Avenue and West 51st Street. She was standing in line for five minutes before I got there at 4:15 p.m. (rush hour traffic on the train sucks by the way). Half the line was already in the building.

So outside on Valentine's Day in the miserable cold and slush that New York was just dumped on with, Sarah and I stood waiting for nearly 90 minutes. At 5:40 p.m. we were let in to the building, and much to everyone who had to wait outside's excitement we got center seats between the first and third rows. Some crappy comic (he's a "heckle the audience" kind of comic) for the Daily Show came out and revved up the audience; it felt like I was on my much hated "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" where the contributors and writers for the show were waiting by the exit to watch their bit. John Stewart came out and answered questions. "Holy crap, it's John F***ing Stewart!" I gleed. Filming started at approximately at 6 p.m. and the laughs were immense from the audience. John laughed, very supportively at his contributor's works; a man who enjoyed what he did and what others did despite the fact that he had a cold and was sipping tea.

After watching an interview with Ishmael Bael, child soldier from Sierra Leone, Sarah (my valentine) and I appropriately ate dinner at a nearby Ethiopian restaurant, Meskeran, on the corner of 47th and 10th. We parted ways as I went to celebrate Valentine's Night with friends at John Friedman's Rejection Show (combined with Sara Schaeffer's Mortified) at a Upright Citizen's Brigade Theatre in Chelsea. First thought: lots of single ladies! And I was one of them in this standing room only show. Comics, writers, bloggers and et cetera read from tales of heartbreak from childhood to adulthood. After comedic acts and bands, such as Leibya Rogers, a left winging feminist Lilith Fair type sang about her nipples tasting of tofu. I was impressed (let's be friends Leibya!). FYI Readers, yours truly is not a reviewer so I'm sorry for the crappy review-like feel of this paragraph.

My night ended making out with a guy who talked about his ex girlfriend the entire time. (Not fun.) I'm assuming they are back together now because I read his blog where February 15th, it mentioned his "girlfriend." So, congrats guy I made out with, you were a good kisser. I almost got in a drag out fight with a comic/writer because she misunderstood something I said that she was sensitive about, and I felt bad about that. Ladies, don't drunkenly tell women that you epically saw their boobs. (It was epic, and I was very proud of her; very cool girl, too). The Day was fun, the Night not so much. The Night made me bitter and tired from walking around midtown for a subway platform that was open and going far uptown. I slept two hours, worked eight hours and hated everyone as soon as 3 p.m. - February 15th rolled around. As Ebert and Roeper might say, one thumb up, one thumb down - a mixed review.