So here we are again… a day that is set aside for telling those that we love that we love them. Wow! So cool, right? And yet, why do we need a specific day for this, I wonder?
Actually, the date originally became the date for remembrance of Saint Valentine, a Christian martyr in the 3rd century who refused to be converted to paganism and was therefore murdered for his beliefs. No record of romantic love was associated with Saint Valentine until Geoffrey Causer’s writings in approximately 1382.
Ok, so I really am a serious curmudgeon about the whole thing, I admit it.I didn’t used to be this way… I looked forward to the lame cards and the over-sweet candy at school as much as the next kid. I hoped that I might get an extra special card from that cute boy that I had a crush on. My mom, who was used to using material things to make up for the time that she spent away from us, would always do something cute for us for Valentine’s Day. And it was cute. But was it necessary to have one day where we expressed our love? Shouldn’t every day be lived with expressions of love for those we hold dear?
So maybe this year I am extra jaded because my boss brought in this collection of the most sickeningly sweet heart-shaped Valentine candy boxes that she has collected since she was 2 years old or something. They are cute, but they are EVERYWHERE. It feels like Valentine’s Day exploded in the library. Seriously, you can’t look anywhere without seeing these boxes. (How old is this woman, anyways???) She even put some on the shelf behind my desk (and hid my cute sock monkey and toy VW Bug behind them!)
My ideal way to celebrate this day? Go give blood! Share the actual output of your heart with those in need. Heck, I think I am going to see where the bloodmobile is today…
Ok, fine, I’ve vented. I admit I am grumpy. Happy Fucking Valentine’s Day.