Feb. 14th, 2006

oneirophrenia: (Girl I Like Bear 2)
I fucking hate it. I always have, to one degree or another, but...there's no point in even trying to bury my dislike of it now. My girlfriend dislikes the whole shebang as much as I do, so I can be as vitriolic as I want without having to worry about her stumbling across this and suddenly hating me. :)

Last year, on Valentine's Day, I spent most of the day curled up on the floor by my toilet, fighting off savage nausea and becoming so dehydrated I needed to go to the hospital to get icewater pumped into my veins. The year before that, I was coughing my lungs out in glutinous green chunks. The year before that, I was practically dying of the chickenpox.

This is the first year--at least, I hope it will be--that it seems I won't be sick on Valentine's Day. I had that little run-in with the kidney stone on Saturday, so maybe that counts as my St. Valentine's Sickness of the year...but if so, it wasn't anything compared to the horrors I've suffered for the past few years. Physical associations alone are enough to ruin my "appreciation" of the holiday, but they're not by far the worst.

Emotionally, Valentine's Day leaves me completely cold. It's too fucking fake. Too contrived. It's not a celebration of love or anything like that...it's a social and economic phenomenon built from the reanimated corpse of Romance. It's the one day of the year you're supposed to make that Significant Other feel Really Special...you know, so you don't have to give a shit about them for the rest of the year. Supposedly, it's The Day to show someone how much you care for and appreciate them by giving them a box of chocolate and a dumb card and maybe taking them out for dinner. But it's the absolute epitome of selfishness, since the subtext of every card and candle and box of Godiva is simply, "Here...I love you, blah blah blah, now put out or at least stop nagging me for another year." What bullshit. If you actually care about someone, Valentine's Day is just another day of caring for them and loving them. If you need to set aside a specific cold, February day to show someone you still give a damn because you're willing to give them some sweets and pay for dinner...well, that's pretty fucking shallow. But that's what American Romance is all about, it seems.

All I can say is: I'm incredibly lucky to have met Kirsten. And that has nothing to do with Valentine's Day looming like a sickly-sweet red shadow on the calendar. I said that yesterday, I did today, and will again tomorrow. And I refuse the cheapen that feeling with some stupid Hallmark Holiday.


Feb. 14th, 2006 02:37 pm
oneirophrenia: (Numan: Machman)
Today's bit o' humour comes from some random blog I stumbled upon: The Anti-Valentine's Day Hit List.

My favorite sampling:

dear pee-intine

by Norma Metcalfe

you wet my bed

then you fled

now what the fuck do i do

with my futon?

Seriously. What are you supposed to do in a situation like that? Thank the gods I've never dated anyone incontinent!


oneirophrenia: (Default)

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