(Disclaimer: Okay, I just re-read this. If you're a happy person in a happy relationship, bless your heart. Don't take the following personally. I just had to get this out of my system.)
This is why I have to invent my own holidays. The hate that I feel for Valentine's Day (like flames, flames at the side of my face) is so intense that only the joy of Liberatus Day could quench my volcanous loathing. Damn you, Cupid. Damn you to hell.
Actually, it's not Cupid. Or romance. Or any of the schmoopy stuff. Love that. It's just Valentine's. A holiday that seems to be designed to try to make me feel bad about myself. Because, obviously, by all accounts, being part of an ecstatically in love couple that exchanges diamonds and flowers on Valentine's Day is the highest peak of happiness. Which was a concept I was discussing with my wonderful husband. . . oh, wait. I'm not married. I must have been discussing it with my adorable boyfriend . . . wait. No. Don't have one of those either. So I must have been discussing it with my imaginary boyfriend. And since imaginary boyfriends aren't able to buy flowers and diamonds (because, you know, imaginary), I am obviously not allowed to be happy.
Okay, okay. I'm trying to not take this whole thing personally. It's not all about me (but really it is). Just because other people are the focus of attention on one day a year (and their anniversaries, and their weddings, and New Years, and Christmas, and any other day they feel like comandeering for themselves) doesn't mean I should get all bent out of shape. Just because I'm single and made to feel like I should crawl under a rock somewhere and eat Chubby Hubby until the tears stop.
You know what? Eff yoooouuuuuu, Valentine's Day. Eff you and the heart shaped cloud you road in on. And your fat, naked, little buddy with the archery set. Enjoy your stupid little 14th. Cause come the 15th, it's over. The 15th is mine! Viva la Liberatus!
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7 comments:
The flip side is annoying too -- when a guy (or two) I am casually dating asks (at the last minute) if I have a date for Vday (wink wink). Like I am desperate and they might get lucky. Sorry bucko!
Ooo. Wow. Smooth talk.
You have to wonder if they ever hear themselves say that stuff and think "Oh, hey. That's kinda skeevy."
I hear a lot of V-Day backlash thesedays - an anti-VD card making event this FRiday, a slew of anti-VD tshorts on CafePress, etc. The best though was last night on Dimitri Martin's new show - his take on the Diamonds are Forver commercial was hilarious
Good. I hope everybody jumps on the bandwagon and kills this hokey little non-holiday dead. I really, really wanted the t-shirt on CafeP that had the candy heart that said "meh". But decided it was fiscally irresponsible, if funny.
I've gotta go find that Dimitri Martin thing.
Posted on behalf of the VP (who's log-in wouldn't cooperate):
I can't resist this one. I am happily married and really despise VD (apt acronym) - it is BS. If my husband chose to wait for one day (perhaps two if you count our anniversary) to be GOOD to me, I would certainly not still be with him. Modern day VD seems to have been created as a Hallmark Holiday (or retail holiday - candy (don't need help being fat), flowers (labor practices in Central America??) & jewelry (blood diamonds) sales booster) that has absolutely no real meaning. We will likely do something romantic like picking through the garage to see what we want to take to the E-Bay seller store!
I think v-day should just be left to the elementary school kids to enjoy at school. I loved getting pink frosted cupcakes and those candy heart things and even getting those hokey cards (until the teachers stopped making everyone give each person a card - and I got precisely 2 cards and everyone else got bunches). Anyway, I think it's a great kid holiday but unlike the Christmas consumerism, limit it to small treats and hokey cards - nothing more. Everyone else and Hallmark should just leave it alone.
I was lazy even as a 6-year old. Hated signing my name on all those cards and decorating my shoebox. Too much work, just hoping I'd get at least one card with one of those fabulously yummy red heart lollipops on it. That's the great thing about being a big girl. I have my own money. I can go buy my own lollipops, thank you very much. 365 days a year. And no construction paper and doily covered shoeboxes! Ha!
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