Go #@*! yourself, Cupid

It's almost Valentine's Day. Whopee. Valentine's Day is probably my second favorite holiday after Christmas. If by favorite you mean excruciatingly annoying. See, the main tenet of my pseudo-Jew religion is 'if everyone else does it and it looks like a lot of fun, you sure as hell better not do it...' So no Valentine's Day for Charles.

I don't mind not celebrating it so much, because much like every other 'Christian' holiday it has its roots in pagan tradition (hence the little winged elf dude with the bow and arrows), its religious connections are vague at best, and it's been so bastardized by Hallmark that even people like me who have a religious aversion to it feel left out.

What pisses me off most is the whole 'expectations' part of it. People are just expected to buy flowers and chocolates and express their undying adoration for the objects of their affection, and those of us who don't have an object of our affection, haven't yet told the object of our affection about said affection, or have various other reasons for not taking part in such shameful heathenism, well, we're just little soul-less trolls, aren't we? (Just kidding about the shameful heathenism thing.)

Everyone always says 'You shouldn't need a certain day to tell someone you love them', but no one ever means it. Admit it. You do need a certain day. If you did the same thing every day, it wouldn't be very special, would it?

However, maybe it's just my inner need to buck the system, but I don't like the idea of some pagan tradition, decapitated saint I don't believe in in the first place, Hallmark or Eckerd telling me when I should do something special for the aforementioned object of my affection. Thus I create my own day, and make sure it's a surprise. It's better that way. I highly recommend it.

P.S. If this last entry was more or less unintelligible, I'm sorry. I've been hopped up on cold and flu medicine since Tuesday.