I already know that my putting this message out into the world will get mixed opinions. Some, of course, will sigh happily at the idea of such a sweet, romantic holiday. Others, like me, who don't have a mate, will only celebrate by sending a few humorous valentines to friends, and stuffing themselves full of chocolate without guilt. Still others (most likely a lot of people) will create a voodoo doll of me and set it of fire for the very idea that I even mention such a disgusting, mushy thing as Valentine's Day. But it's a federal offence, punishable by 5 years in jail if I don't mention all major holidays, so here I am, writing about something I haven't made a big deal about in ages. (And, most likely, putting my life in danger of angry, voodoo doll-carrying, Valentine's Day-hating mobs.
You may wonder, since I'm only 18, how I can say I haven't made a big deal about Valentine's Day in ages, because despite how it sounds, it means I did once make a big deal out of Valentine's Day. Well, the last time I really celebrated the holiday was about as recent as that last sentence is short, but I did celebrate it. I'm sure you remember; you must have done it in your life. Everyone did. I'm referring to the Valentine's Day process back in elementary school. For my parents, this involved a staggering amount of work, cutting with tiny, blunt scissors for hours, getting their hands sticky with paste, painstakingly coming up with designs, and creating original messages for each individual student in their class. For me, this involved going to K-mart.
I'd spend ages looking at the racks of cards, picking out ones that would appeal to both boys and girls, and that I would like. This was not an easy task, considering the entire stock consisted of A. Barbie, B. Power Rangers, and C. The kinds of creatures some kids my ages thought hid in their closets late at night. But at last, I'd descend upon Valentines of cute cats and dogs, which sported messages like "You're a purr-fect valentine!" and "You're doggone cool, valentine!" Eagerly, I'd get out the class list and sign each valentine, including the big one for the teacher.
Finally the big day would come. Valentine's Day was the one day of the year I would willingly wear pink. Okay, not willingly, that's just another thing I'm required to say. There was a huge party planned (Because of Valentine's Day, not because I was wearing pink.) As we drank red soda, and ate pink cookies, we cut giants hearts out of paper and glued the V-shaped parts together on the edges to make "mailboxes." Then we all took off, dropping our valentines in each other's mailboxes. When we were done, we returned to our desks to make a huge deal out of each and every valentine, despite the fact they had all, every one of them, come from the exact same company, which also made fast food, computers, and nuclear bombs for Communist countries. The day always ended too fast, and we left, knowing the next day we'd actually have to learn at school.
Yes, back then I liked Valentine's Day. And I still do like the idea. But only the idea. In high school, Valentine's day doesn't mean cute generic cards and class parties, it means blowing tons of cash on chocolate, flowers, jewelry, and stuffed animals that must have been left near the beet juice plant that exploded, as they are all pink or red. We no longer look at each other's handiwork, but instead, we see students making out in the halls. I'm all for romance- love at first sight, soul mates, all of that. But Valentine's Day is now commercially overblown. So I'm just going to stay locked in my house, enjoy a coincidental day off, and sign my 3 cards.
No, I am not a bitter boy-less, insane freak. I am perfectly happy boy-less, insane freak. When I do find a guy, I'll make a bigger deal out of the whole thing, I swear. But for now, I'm just going to eat chocolate.
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.