Well folks, it’s over. The end of the world. The darkness is creeping in. The sun may never rise again. Yes, you guessed it.
Valentines Day is coming. Dum dum dum duuuuum.
Every year on the 14th of the second month we are visited by a commercialized devil of a holiday, designed to make us all fall in love and tell those we care about we love them and heart them and ooo and ahhh and butterflies and everything sweet.
I don’t hate valentines day because I hate love. Far from it. I love love. I love to love. Love is all around. What the world needs now is love. And all that. It’s that for us single people it is the single (using that word twice is going to bother me) most annoying thing in the world. It drives me nuts when girls get flowers from guys that probably don’t tell them about their undying love half as much as they should. It makes me crazy when I see people getting all ga-ga over each other because of a holiday that only exists to destroy rose and sugar crops worldwide.
Perhaps I’m bitter. Maybe it was a horrible childhood experience with love (those kisses on the playground will get you everytime). Or maybe I have a secret hate for St. Valentine, whoever the guy was. It also could be that I’ve always had a deeply seeded anger towards Valentines Day. Maybe it’s been passed down through the family.
Perhaps it’s just my general annoyance with the whole power of the commercial powerhouses in taking holidays and just about ruining them. I don’t know. My friend Pat has a similer hate for Black Tuesday. Every year he puts out a Valentine Diatribe that gives me a special warm feeling in my heart.
I think for me it’s traced back to elementary school. Imagine Rick Moranis (the nerdy guy from Honey I Shrunk The Kids) and make it ten times as nerdy, geeky and funny lookin’ and you have me. I was the outcast. Like beyond outcast. I was the guy the outcast picked on. I was so low on the food chain they wouldn’t even eat me, that’s how bad it was.
Needless, my valentines days through middle school were just as bad too. It was like a never ending nightmare. No flowers. No candy. Cards that had my name mispelled. People would look at me weird when they dropped fhe cards off. I only realized later they had no idea who I was until they had to make a card for me. So, kind of a sad existance.
Adulthood hasn’t made it much better. Perhaps its the fact that I’ve been single since high school that makes it worse each year. This year has the chance to be a little better. I’m in another country. So I don’t have to be witnessed to the same people getting the gifts of flowers, cards, candy, cars, houses, boats, mansions and whatever else people give those that they deeply love with all their heart and cherrys’ on top with whip cream.
I guess I’m just the Scrooge of Valentines Day. Bah humbug!
