My Valentine’s Day Rant (hey, you knew it was coming…)
Once upon a time, there was a sad, sad girl named Colleen.
She grew up in a not-so magical kingdom known as Culture-is-Outlawed Wasteland Suburbia (or COWS, now with 50% more right-wing conservatism!). It was a land where Image was King, Money was his Queen, and Reputation was Law (and Jesus his Manservant). For a sad, sad girl named Colleen, who possessed none of these qualities, high school was the bane of her very existence. She had her circle of allies, but beyond that, she might as well have been wearing a chicken costume to school every day. She was an outcast. No well-meaning male would dare come near her, and those who did were not only ill-meaning, but also the very definition of douchebaggery. COWS had very little to offer her.
One celebration COWS valued highly was that which fell on February the 14th, known as Saint Valentine’s Day. This was a day where paired (heterosexual) individuals were allowed to go burn their hard-earned monies on processed sugar, overpriced flowers, and tacky costume jewelry for their significant others, which, in COWS, was the only true way of expressing affection. The industries got a boost, and so did diabetes. Because nothing says ‘Je t’aime!’ as much as a bag of sugar-coated diabetes (disclaimer: the author of this tale is very pro-candy and is using this mockery in a purely sarcastic manner, in case any of you didn’t notice).
Colleen’s very few romantic exploits during this era never fell on this day. They would always bloom in late spring and dissolve by midsummer at the latest. She was never allowed her own bag of diabetes/candy, and her only tokens on this day would be dime-a-dozen Harry Potter paper valentine sentiments with silly puns and shiny paper from the biology teacher. Poor, sad Colleen.
So instead, she took matters into her own hands and gave birth to a tradition of her own, the Valentine’s Day Blood!Fest. Every year, whether by herself or with colleagues, she would pop in the goriest monster flicks and grosses of the Tarantino films and enjoy being independent. Cliched? Indeed. But it was a way to express the true meaning of Valentine’s Day: that some justice-of-the-peace was beheaded in Ancient Rome once. Blood!
She even carried this tradition to college with her, known as the land of Culturally Abundant Time and Space (heretofore known as CATS). She spread the word of the Blood!Fest and told COWS and their St. Valentine’s commercialist orgasm to shove it in their diabetes bags.
And Colleen lived happily ever after…
This year, things are different. I have a significant other for the first time ever on the day of the Commercialist Christmas (you know, besides the…actual Christmas). I cannot participate in my own Blood!Fest this year and instead plans to spend the day with said significant other. He is bringing gifts for me and I have gifts for him too. We will exchange them, watch movies, he will cook for me, and do a lot of things I’ll leave to your imagination to guess.
Which begs to ask the question…am I a hypocrite?
Because even now, I stand by the fact that Valentine’s Day is a shameless exploit by the candy companies, florists, and Wal-Mart (because those bastards are always involved) to convince people to buy shit for their lovers to express their love for each other…because that’s the right way to do it in a capitalist society like ours.
Well, I can tell you right now, my guy and I have NEVER had a problem expressing affection, with or without presents and candy.
So really, if anything, the day should be spent like any other for us, right?
Well, I have to confess, I’m excited that I’m celebrating it this year not as ‘Single’s Awareness Day’ (a title which I have loathed since it was born). I’m excited that my boyfriend is coming down, giving me things, cooking for me, watching Battle Royale and Inglorious Basterds (old habits…*wait for it*…Die Hard) with me, and those ‘other things’ (hint: it starts with s and ends with –ex). It will be a wonderful change for sure.
But am I compromising my beliefs for enjoying it and celebrating the day with more than a glimpse of my Betty White calendar (more badass than you’ll ever be) and shrugging?
In my own defense, up until this year, I got a V-Day consolation package from my mother that had candy and a fluffy stuffed animal (I refuse to grow up. I will gleefully receive fluffy things until I’m 150). And this year I was home the week before so she just handed me my V-Day package to save on postage while I was home. So in all technicality, I was exploiting Valentine’s Day from a young age to begin with.
Maybe I LIKE the presents in spite of what day they are given on. I’ll happily accept free things given in a well-meaning manner on Ted Bundy’s Birthday if they were offered to me! I mean, people don’t look forward to their birthdays because it means they haven’t died over the past year…they love the parties, presents, and the attention! Maybe that’s my best defense yet. I was so deprived of all of that in my public education days. Maybe now that I can enjoy it at long last, I should make it the best ever.
Aaaaand now I sound like a capitalist pig.
But it’s the truth. I’m about to face the cold-hard reality of life on my own, working at a job that makes me consider suicide on a weekly, if not daily, basis, and the ever-looming threat of being forced to conform to society in site of what it may stand for in order just to survive in the dog-eat-dog world of America. The more fluff and candy I get now, the better. I need to live it up while I’m young and have a boyfriend who’s willing to buy me chocolate and roses.
Valentine’s Day, you may represent some stupid highly-marketable shit, but goddammit, I say we bury the hatchet for now. Treat me right and I won’t call you ‘Fucking Morons’ Day’ anymore. For once, I’m not going to spout hipster crap about you. Because I hate hipsters just as much as I hate you.
Happy FUCKING Valentine’s Day, world! And Happy Mopey Blood!Fest Day all you singles! You deserve your fun/outrage too!
…and all was right with the world. At least until *cue ominous thunder crash*St. Patricks Day.