Nothing says “I love you” more than a morning hump-sesh.
While there are plenty of gushy ways to say “be mine” to your main squeeze this Valentine’s Day, I predict the love of my life will take a direct approach to ‘marking’ me as his better half, just as he does each and every morning – with a passionate, never solicited leg-hump-of-love.
I’d say my ‘boo’ and I are a pretty big power-couple on Main Campus, turning heads with every outing we take to Beury Beach. And even if my guy has a bit of a weight issue, people constantly come up to him wanting to know his life story to the point where our dates can get a bit exhausting, but I’m not intimidated by other ladies, I’ve got him on a tight leash – literally.
Before I give my entire writing fan base a heart attack – hey, Grandma – let me clear up that my valentine is my Flemish Giant rabbit named Pancake. Even if he wanted to pick me up a chocolate heart at the supermarket, store security would probably have something to say if a 15-some-pound fluffy monster came hopping down the conveyor belt.
And let’s face it, a rabbit with an endless appetite wouldn’t have the discipline to get a dozen roses home without being tempted to munch the stems off every last one. All hopes of a romantic breakfast-in-bed disappeared when I named him after my favorite early morning nom-nom. Pancakes with Pancake? That’s some all-too-ironic cannibalistic stuff that I’ll save for the post-breakup-revenge era.
I know most mentally sane people wouldn’t consider a pet rabbit a practical Valentine – I’m still fighting against Edible Arrangements’ rodent discrimination by their lack of chocolate-covered carrot bouquets – but when this single lady couldn’t coerce anyone to watch documentaries and eat Thai food, I had to work with what I had, and that just so happened to be a monster-sized rabbit companion.
But I guess I can’t fault the male population: Dating red flags would go up for me too if someone talked about their rabbit more than Internet trolls talk about the inaccuracies of Temple memes – yeah, it’s reached that irritating level. Now that it’s already been established that the release of this column will put the last nail in my dating-life coffin, I might as well milk this boyfriend-rabbit metaphor to its fullest, most uncomfortable potential.
Everyone has that friend involved in an obsessive relationship where they spend every waking moment intertwined – emotionally and physically – with that significant other. I have a few friends that I’d love to grab by the shoulders, shake and tell them there’s a whole undiscovered world out there that exists outside the confines of their co-dependent relationship.
When you’re involved with someone past the “I guess it’s cool if you brush your teeth in the bathroom while I’m in here peeing” stage, you tend to adapt the interests of your lover. Whether you find yourself listening to new genres of music, using certain catch phrases, wearing your boyfriend’s baggy clothes to bed or hanging around a new group of friends, there’s no doubt that their likes and dislikes get mixed up with yours, leading some to enter a full-blown identity crisis. Pancake has turned my life into a rabbit gimmick.
My love for Pancake has been misconstrued into a love for everything rabbits by anyone who knows me – although they’re not totally off in left field with that assumption – I am a sucker for anything sporting those big-eared cuties. Bunny-printed sweatshirts and dresses have occupied more and more of my closet’s hangers during the past few months, a rabbit calendar hangs next to my bed, little bunnies jump around on my phone’s wallpaper and 95 percent of YouTube videos containing rabbits have occupied my Facebook timeline at one point in time. I am officially that weird horse girl you knew in grade school reinvented.
I’m in bunny love – like puppy love minus fetching and barking and plus hops and twitching noses. Maybe some of you college boys out there can kind-of-sort-of relate to this, except your bunnies might be surgically enhanced models living with Hugh Hefner. We’re kind of on the same team. You get Playboy Magazine, I get Rabbits USA.
My social-networking persona has probably left some with no other choice but to seek out the un-friend button to get away from the endless status and photo updates about Pancake that come along with my online friendship, just as you might feel toward that flawless couple you know. I’m talking about the one who’s Facebook defaults look like they should be the sepia-colored filler in all picture frames sold in department stores. But when you love “somebunny,” it’s hard not to brag. How can one not be proud when their babe gets chosen to be on dailybunny.org? I picked a winner.
But in my defense, I didn’t go totally off-the-chart looney yet and change my relationship status on Facebook. That’s the day when my life hits rock bottom and I would understand if everyone held an intervention for me and placed Pancake in protective custody.
Just as much as Pancake can be the best guy ever, we also have our moments, just like anyone else who’s got someone to call theirs has experienced. Pancake’s inability to resist the urge of chewing wires has racked up costs just as much as the dating life can. So while some of you got a dinner out in Center City this Valentine’s Day, I treated myself to a new laptop charger – for the third time this year. Some of his shoe-eating endeavors have left him in the dating doghouse – or I suppose in this case it would be more like in the ‘Playboy Mansion.’
While this Valentine’s Day might be spent with Pancake and me watching movies in my bed – probably stopping midway through when he decides to jump on the keyboard and pause the movie – atleast I’ve got a “cuddle bunny” at all. Maybe I’ll even get sentimental and buy a heart of chocolates for us to share – I get to eat the chocolates and he gets to eat the cardboard box.
So what’s the deep-moral message of all this crazy bunny-love talk, you ask? Who can say? They just told me that if I write about Pancake, I could run pictures with him included, and he was “all ears” when he heard a photo shoot was part of the deal.
Cara Stefchak and Pancake can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.