If you haven't started to cringe yet, you probably ought to. Anybody who starts a train-of-thought analysis of Valentine's day with a man being beheaded is most likely not going to be talking about roses and chocolates and kittens, even though some of those topics might negatively come up later (like tomorrow). Consider this your formal warning: run away while you still can - nothing good can come of this.
Valentine's day is one of those many holidays that has become a money-making paradise. Considering that February 14th has absolutely nothing to do with love (and seemingly more to do with painful death), it's fairly suspicious that millions of people are told they should go and buy romantic things to make their significant others feel special. After all, nothing says love like a red teddy-bear holding a heart.
V-Day is also one of those days I forget I hate until it happens. In fact, every year like clockwork, I convince myself I actually like Valentine's day. This lasts of course until Valentine's day, upon which time I remember that I really despise the holiday, and end up spending all 24 hours miserably contemplating the fact that the day I was so looking forward to is actually really lame.
So to lessen the expected fallout of tomorrow's disillusionment, this year I've decided to brace myself by remembering that, actually, I DO hate Valentine's day. The latest V-Day episode of Glee is also assisting me by providing pre-holiday irritation (yes, they're just made-up characters; no, that does not make them matter less). And even though I know that's not enough to stop my hallucinatory expectations of how tomorrow will turn out, I'm hoping this will make me slightly more bearable to the poor souls who will have to deal with me.
May your chocolates be average and your teddy-bears ugly.
XOXO
