oh? is it a holiday named after a saint?

I've talked about this before.

If you've been reading for any amount of time, you also know that I pretty much hate most holidays.

Hate is a strong word.

And it applies.

Amongst those I detest with the fire of my soul is Valentine's Day. *shudder* I hate this holiday.

But perhaps not for exactly the reasons you think.

Sure, the V day sucks for the singletons. It reminds people everywhere that they're alone and thus not worthy of celebrating. Though why anyone would WANT to celebrate this gag-inducing day is beyond me.

Besides, aren't we celebrating a massacre?

But perhaps that's more accurate anyway. It's a massacre of love.

Let me set the scene:

The evening begins with carefully chosen lingerie (in red or pink) under a skimpy dress, though it IS February, and too much perfume and cologne from both parties. Someone gives a cheap bear. The other gives a box of candy. Perhaps overpriced roses as well. Maybe even a necklace in the shape of a heart.

But maybe she doesn't like that kind of candy or the chocolate is stale. Maybe his dream gift is not a drug store bear that says "Stud Muffin."

 

There is a veritable cattle call of couples, filing into cheesily decorated restaurants with set, overpriced menus and cheap champagne, shoved in so tightly so everyone can hear each other's conversations over the sounds of Wham and Olivia Newton John. Romantic, no?

But he didn't make reservations 5 years in advance so they're stuck at the only place he could get in. It's seafood and she's a vegetarian, which wouldn't normally be a problem. She could just get a salad. Except it's Valentine's day and they have a set 3-course menu. He feels like an ass, but wants her to see she tried. She wonders if he even knows her at all. But it's the most romantic night of the year! The power through.

Then back to the bedroom where  she'll expect to be swept off her feet. Maybe she's lit candles and Sade is playing in the background. But he won't even notice the expensive lingerie and maybe she's eaten too much. He's had too much champagne and can't get it up anyway. But it's Valentine's day, so gotta perform.

The night ends in exhaustion and frustration and too much money spent and no one is really happy.

Yuck.

Doesn't that sound awful? I know I exaggerate usually, but come on, that's how Valentine's day is yo.

The best Valentine's days I ever had when I wasn't single (because I'd rather be single on this horrid day than sacrifice my relationship to this bizarre custom) was with my ex D. We both agreed that if we weren't working that we'd order pizza and watch Futurama. Best. Date. Ever.

Other years were spent at the Vagina Monologues. Also super fun.

What will I be doing this year? Nada. And that's fiiiiiiiiiine by me.

Maybe watching Big Love. Wouldn't that be appropriate?

Or maybe a local U is doing a production of the V Mons.

that's really a dialog