Although AK and I did couple-ish Valentine stuff on Friday, we spent V-Day proper with our sisters (‘cause we love them too) at Mortified. After hearing people read their diary accounts of teen romance, we concluded: Whether you were a virgin or a whore, a hot cheerleader or a closeted gay boy, the dumper or the dumpee—you were lame. Few thoughts are more comforting.
We also dug the opening musical act, Garfunkel & Oates, whose song “Pregnant Women are Smug”* I’m posting here for your enjoyment:
*Of course, none of the pregnant and recently pregnant women I know are smug. Seriously! My friends are a well-mannered bunch who ask about my book tour even while in the act of nursing a little one. But I do think that as a group—much like roving mall-packs of teenagers and gays at pride parades—pregnant women can be crazier than the sum of their parts. In all cases, it’s probably fair to blame hormones.