Saturday, February 12

Hearts, red, pink, white. Construction paper. It was good then.

Honestly, I try not to be a Valentines scrooge. It's a hard part of me to get rid of, though. Valentines day, with a few notable exceptions (I do love ya, Trae!), has been pretty much a craptastic affair since it stopped being appropriate to make a creative box (usually out of shoe boxes, multiple ones) in order to gain a valentine from every kid in your class. Hopefully your crush was IN your class, and not Mrs. Nave's because then you wouldn't get a REAL valentine, but if he was! Well, the boyish scrawl was that much more meaningful. He obviously practiced a few times to betray his unexpressed feelings. As did you. It was only natural to pick out the most flirtatious valentine for the cutie in the class. He was also smart enough to "get it." (roooiight!) And it was only a matter of time before holding hands in the big monstertruck tire at recess (the one that held TWO couples) was a completed deal.

But that's where my inner V-Scrooge pops his head up. I've absolutely tried everything to make Valentines day less of a huge deal, but in a conversation today with my mom, I realize why I just will hate this day: simply because in our family, Valentines day has been equated with romantic love/lover. (i.e., begging parents to send me flowers so that I wasn't the only 8th grade girl not getting them was returned with "I only get valentine's day gifts for my valentine.")

Now, I know that there are many families out there who buy one another valentine's gifts and express general feelings of appreciation and love. But I think one of my biggest irritations is that I legitimately don't like the holiday. I don't mean to crap on anyone else's Cupid-filled day but I really try to keep it just another Monday to me. (Except that year in college I felt so sorry for myself I went and blew $100 on perfume and clothes. I'll try not to do that this year.)

Ok, so that's pretty much it. Please don't say "God is my Valentine," because I'm not even going to go into what a saccharine excuse that is. Right up there with "Jesus is my boyfriend." Just a whole MESS of ....I don't know. Those words should just never come out of anyone's mouth.

Yes, I know I'm loved, I don't doubt that. Really, honestly loved. It's the emphasis on romantic-love-you're-not-in-on-the-secret-this-is-a-great-time-for-a-Valentines-party-so-that-you-don't-feel-left-out-but-strangely-only-singles-are-at-this-party feel of America's Valentine's 'celebration' that just gets right under the skin.

Well, I know that there are many out there that will just YELL at me because of my scroogeness. The line starts to the left.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I salute your scroogness. I'm in a 9-year relationship and even I want to puke at all the heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, padded satin cards with bunnies and "romantic" CDs largely featuring the tortured vocals of Michael Buble. That's not what love's about, that's just what Hallmark wants you to think.
Incidentally I moved to Canada from England last month and I can't tell you how confused I was to see 32-packs of Valentine's cards for sale. In England you only ever send one to your Significant Other, or the hottie you hope will become so. I spent a few days thinking some Canadians must be really promiscuous until it was explained to me!

Molly said...

Can I be your valentine? JK. It's just another Monday to me as well, I assure you. And I'm thankful that I'm surrounded by wonderful people who share my sentiments, so we'll all celebrate a normal Monday by dragging our butts out of bed and to class.

Too bad B&J's doesn't make Dublin Mudslide anymore; I'd call ghetto phone boy and make him get some for you.

Hannah said...

mmmmmmm. Dublin Mudslide. I truly believe they are evil, not for their politics, but for introducing such a wonderful thing and then ripping it from my clutches.

Around St. Patty's day, we should look for it again.

With octaves of a mystic depth and height