I’ve got my reasons.* What are yours? Anecdotes solicited.
*Not because of the pogroms.
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Recent Comments
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I don’t hate it. Hubby and I started dating on Valentines day. 18 years ago.
Fine, Carin. You’re excused from this exercise.
Unless you want to tell your story.
I hate Valentine’s Day because I can’t get away with porking out on the candy like I used to.
Oh, and there’s the fact it’s Feb. 13 and I still haven’t bought a card for my wife.
I’ve got my reasons.* What are yours?
You’re excused from this exercise.
Unless you want to tell your story.
Perfect description of the ‘dialogue’ at PW.
Not just because of the pogroms.
I hate Valentine’s Day cause I can never think of anything remotely clever to put in that little Candy Heart message generator thingy everyone always links to.
It’s not an interesting story, and I’m not a good enough writer to make it one.
I don’t understand Cleo’s snark on this one.
Well, my wife and I were married on Valentine’s day 27 years ago.
And Dan, if I’m not mistaken, there are some certain, ah, financial advantages to Valentine’s day for you.
knowwhatImean? wink wink nudge nudge,
Yeah, like I get a big slice of that pie.
Because of the sheeple being duped by the brainwashing conducted by evil corporations!
OTOH, Steak and BJ Day is a pure, wholesome, organic expression of romantic love.
Yes! YES! I’m all about a rare, juicy cut of ribeye and a sincere expression of romantic relatiom ….
[….]
OK, leaving now….
Justice of the Obamasiah?
JFC, leave it to ‘cleo…
Me, I particularly hate it this year.
Ah, Semantics-clueless.
Ever off topic, ever irrelevent… drifting … drifting …
That’s what it does. That’s all it does. It knows no other way to be.
I once broke up with a girl on Valentine’s day. I was a freshman in college and she was a senior in high school and let’s face it, I was having more fun in college. We strung it out through Christmas break, but had decided to “just be freinds” when I went back to school. I started seeing someone else who was a total and complete psycho, so to avoid the Valentine’s Day meltdown (she had no idea what the word “broke” meant) I went home for the holiday on some kind of excuse.
Long story short, my mother ran into the first girl, mentioned that I’d be home for Valentine’s day, I got a call, and we wentout. She showered me with gifts, a $200 watch and a “box of McNuggets” if you know what I’m saying. Later that night, while driving her home, I gave her the “it’s not you, it’s me/I’ve met someone else/I want to be fair to you/you have your whole senior year ahead ofyou/please stop talking to my mother speech. She freaked out, wouldn’t stop crying, demanded to let out of the car. We were only a block away from her house so I refused, and while talking to her instead of watching the road, I ran over her dog.
I believe I’ve mentioned that before, but that was the first of several St. Valentine’s day massacrees to come for old LMC.
Like the time I took the future Mrs LMC to the city for dinner and a show and the car got impounded, I had to spend all of the money I had in the world to get the car out of hock (it was her car, BTW) got back to the house I shared with some buddies and found a raging party going on, mostly in my room. I shut the door, but locked myself out. Then I had to climb on the roof of the porch with a chef’s knife to try and jimmy the window open, and right as I succeeded, two guys using a ber keg as a battering ram smashed through the door, across the room and into my stereo. 18 years later, I still haven’t replaced my stereo.
I could go on if you think I need to. For example, I was arrested on two consecutive Valentines Days. Once for public lewdness and open container and the second for disturbing the peace while arguing over what had happened the previous Valentines day. That was fun and almost got me fired (long story).
One Valentine’s day I put my wife’s brand new car into a curb during a snowstorm and had to have it towed. Another time I was walking from the P and W station to class and got hit in the back with the side mirror of a jeep. Broke two ribs and had a bruise you wouldn’t believe.
Aything else you need to know? I’m sending tomorrow in bed. Alone.
I don’t hate it now that I’ve learned to ignore it. My husband is a wonderful man, but well-executed acknowledgment of minor holidays are not part of his wonderfulness. It isn’t his fault, his mother didn’t train him properly.
My son’s girlfriend has the right approach, for such a young girl. She picked the restaurant she wants to go to, she made the reservations. I picked up the present for him to give her. He’s going to break the cycle.
’cause it’s my birthday. And my wife expects ME to give HER presents!
Wow, LMC, that completely trumps anything I could come up with.
But I’m still going to hate the day. The one person I want to spend it with, I can’t.
I hate Valentine’s day because I’ve always resented being tested, especially by the half of the human race that brags about their prerogative to break their word.
What’s up, Rob Crawford?
Damn, LMC!!!
I have a similar, albeit far less disturbing, trend on New Year’s Eve.
Do what I do. Stay in bed, preferably with your significant other, order in, watch old movies, drink.
How’s this? Significant other just flew to New Jersey for a funeral, I have four kids home from school due to snow, but the three youngest would be home anyway since they have some kind of Asian Death flu. I got maybe three hours of sleep last night.
At least I’m not working.
Wait, strike that. I am working. Thank God.
C’mon Dan, why do you hate VD. You’re comments above bearly scratch the surface of appeasing our curiousity.
Oh, just that a long-lost love came back into my life. She lives 400 miles away and isn’t sure she wants to get into a long-distance relationship, but we’ve been talking for three months.
And I know I should just be glad to have rediscovered a friend, but, damn.
Well, ccs . . . it’s because of all the cards I receive. Every year I make an effort to anticipate all those people who anxiously send me cards begging me to be their Valentine, and inevitably receive last minute cards from folks whom I hadn’t anticipated. And that means that I’ve got to stay up late trying to squeeze some kind of inspiration out of my sphincter that doesn’t sound too encouraging for all the women, and doesn’t sound too ghey for all the guys. Except for the gay ones.
LMC wins, hands down. I would be afraid to leave the house. Unless, of course, this kind of thing happens to you all the time, and these are just the stories from what happened on V-day.
In which case, you might consider never leaving the house. Ever.
And I know I should just be glad to have rediscovered a friend, but, damn.
It’s funny how it isn’t enough when you really, really want more. I feel for you.
Yeesh, you still put up with that? I solved it by becoming a Valentine slut. I’ll be anybody’s Valentine whether they ask or not.
It’s not exactly good for my reputation, but it does simplify matters.
I view VD day as a conspiracy of the Matriarchy designate yet another day to get more free jewelry and other goodies they otherwise would not get normally. Notice there’s no true corresponding day for mens.
My bf broke up with me on V-Day by saying, “I need to spread my wings,” and then followed up (apparently anxious to fill the stunned silence that remark elicited from me) with, “It’s only a corporate, Hallmark holiday, you know.”
I told him to go, get out, now. He was honestly puzzled I wouldn’t discuss his need for wing-spreading further…
Translation: I want to have sex with someone else, preferably a lot of someones.
But you already knew that.
ushie: I’ve got to get my birding gun.
Birding gun, how I wish’t I had one…but really, isn’t Bette Midler the only person who’s allowed to talk about wing-spreading?
New Year’s is another matter altogether Cowboy. I’ve sworn off it entirely. Each year I party like it’s 1999, and I’m in the office making sure the world doesn’t end and waiting for my boss to call and check on me, which he forgot to do. I, of course, blamed Bill Clinton.
Wait a sec ushie, did he run over your dog? “we need to grow” was my line.
LMC, with a line like that, I’m surprised no one ever ran over your dog.
“It’s not you, it’s me.” -> It is you.
“We need to grow.” -> I’m tired of you, and I might run over your dog. Oops. Sorry.
“I need to spread my wings.” -> I thought it would sound poetic, but the way you’re looking at me, I realize that it didn’t. Please don’t kill me.
Don’t use a line. Just do it and be done with it. Or take the passive-aggressive approach and drive them so crazy they break up with you instead. I’ve done it that way in the before-times.
Warning: the “drive them crazy” approach won’t work on psycho-chicks from hell.
Aaaaand…these psycho-chicks of whom you speak? Do tell us more.
Can you chew your V-day chocolates more quietly, ladies? I really don’t want to have to amp up the Steroids in Major League Basball Congressional hearings.
Song for the Dumped
All my SOs cleverly managed to be on the outs with me when any gift-giving holiday arrived.
Lately, I just don’t much like having Yet Another Reminder that there’s no one for me to be disappointed in when VD arrives.
Lisa Simpson: Romance is dead. It was acquired in a hostile takeover by Hallmark and Disney, homogenized, and sold off piece by piece.
I do have to say that some females have advised me, when I wanted to break off with some guy, that I should wait ’til after V-Day or the Holidays so I can get prezzies.
I didn’t wait. Too…psycho-chick-like.
My bf broke up with me on V-Day by saying, “I need to spread my wings,†and then followed up (apparently anxious to fill the stunned silence that remark elicited from me) with, “It’s only a corporate, Hallmark holiday, you know.â€Â
And then he ran over your dog?
If that is all psycho-chicks did, they wouldn’t even rate a category. That is within a standard deviation of normal behavior in my experience. Then again, for every woman who would wait, there’s a clueless guy who thinks spending money will save a failing relationship.
I’m suprised you haven’t known any. I guess the condition only manifests itself in certain situations.
Just the usual reason: On my way home from work, have to stand in a cue of morose-looking guys, all thinking the same thing as me: I can’t believe I gotta spend all this cash on weeds that she’s gonna throw out in a few days, unless I want to be cut off completely until the Fourth of July.
cranky-d:
Don’t use a line. Just do it and be done with it. Or take the passive-aggressive approach and drive them so crazy they break up with you instead. I’ve done it that way in the before-times.
Warning: the “drive them crazy†approach won’t work on psycho-chicks from hell.
No, you’re right, cranky–I tried the ‘drive them crazy’ approach once. It just drover her crazi-er!
Do you know what a pound of sugar in the gas tank will do to an Opel Kadet?
Oh, I roomed with a psycho-chick. She told this guy that he got her pregnant and she needed an abortion, and then told me she wasn’t pregnant and just wanted some money.
I wish’t I knew his last name or phone number so’s I could call him up to tell him.
“Do you know what a pound of sugar in the gas tank will do to an Opel Kadet?”
Not enough, Grampa.
Amen, Commandero!
It topped out at 45 MPH before the sugar…probably a mercy-killing, huh?
Didn’t Mythbusters bust the sugar in the gas tank thing? Maybe they didn’t use enough or something.
1) I’m not a Catholic
2) It’s false sentimentality, it requires “spontaneous” gifts and gestures of romance
3) It is an artificial, commercial construct, not something that grew out of natural interest and demand
4) I’m single and it’s one more day to depress the crap out of me
I like paper hearts with little hand-scrawled notes. They are free if you rummage through the craft bin and cut a heart shape. Then put, like “your new Bentley is in the Driveway” on it. Or a note saying a sweet thing.
Husband gets heart shaped oat waffles with maple syrup and bacon twisted into a valentine shape.
Then when he gets home its a tenderloin and leggy tender stem broccoli rabe. And probably some rosemary potatoes. With some bacons.
For dessert he gets Mont Blanc or those red velvet cupcakes he likes.
I don’t know if your car would just die immediately from sugar in the gas tank but you’d destroy your engine in the process, the last thing it needs is sugar-glazed cylinders.
#49
Clog the fuel filter. ya wanna permanently disable it? A gallon of muriatic acid in the gas tank. ya didn’t hear this from me.
Is a Mont Blanc anything like a Hot Karl?
I’d just like to mention that my parents got married on this date 55 years ago.
So if you call me a bastard, you’re at least partially inaccurate.
Happy Buy Me Stuff Or I Complain Day, everybody!
I love my V-day of old… Elmers Glue, doillies and red construction paper.
I think I’ve saved every off center, partially ripped, crayon scrawled valentine that my kids have ever made me.
I hate V-day of Vagina Warriors sitting in a theater watching Vagina Monologues and screaming “cunt cunt cunt” passing out vulva lollipops in a not-intentially ironic effort that females be considered more than walking vaginas.
I love having a “jar of death” on my desk filled with chocolates where everyone wanders by several times a day going “I’m only going to have just one… really…”
I never have asked or expected much more than just a sincere “I love you” whispered hot and anxious in my ear …. a card or a single flower is a happy surprise. (hubby likes to send flowers unexpected at non-holiday times of year, which has permanently endeared him to my co-workers)
I am wholly unaffected by advertising, I don’t “get” the panic on 2/13.
I recall heart-shaped pink thank-you notes to our troops from school kids taped up in lots of places in Iraq – palaces, tents, FOBs. Was glad to think that such things still happened somewhere in America. Best VD memory that comes to mind right now. I know the assignment was to explain why we hate VD but I’ve never been good at following direction.
Aahh… VD has an entirely different connotation to me, ya know? Something more up the line of epidemiologists… (or however you spell that specialty) or world’s oldest professionals.
BECAUSE OF ALL THE FRAN AND SHIZE NIT!!