It's that time of year once again, kiddies. Yes, you know what time I mean. It's Single Awareness Day (or SAD), known in some sickening circles as Valentine's Day. An appropriate way to celebrate SAD is as follows:

 Buy a heart-shaped box of chocolates

 Buy a dozen red roses

 Buy a bottle of good wine

 Rent a movie in the vein of Romeo and Juliet or Love Story (anything where two happy young people find a deep and abiding love, and then one or both of them die horribly)

 Chug the wine as the opening credits roll

 Pop the heads off all the roses during Act I

 Scarf down the chocolates during Act II

 Stomp the hell out of the heart-shaped box during Act III

 Cheer when the young lovers succumb to death�s sweet embrace at the end of the film

 Pass out

Actually, for the first time in years, I have a real date for Valentine's Day! Okay, for the first time in ever. Well, no, I guess that's not entirely true, either. In the eighth grade, my girlfriend and I were together for Valentine's Day, for whatever that was worth. We didn't even kiss. In high school, my girlfriend and I were together for Valentine's Day as well, if just barely. We broke up the next day. Not much kissing then, either.

I have to say, though, that I love Valentine's. I love it. I don't give a shit that I've never before had a romantic Valentine's Day; I still love it. Frankly, I don't understand why people have all this deep-seated loathing toward it, and complain that it's commercialistic and serves only to reinforce the notion that there's something wrong with single people. Not to sound callous, but whatever, dude. Who cares?

I mean, during college, I turned Not Dating into an art form, and still I managed to find the fun on 2/14. Relationships are great, and when better to celebrate them then on a day dedicated to romance, but they don't define me or who I am. It's not like I introduce myself to people and say, "I'm between relationships right now," as if my life goes into suspended animation until someone comes along to validate my existence by wanting to sex me up. Not that that's a bad thing, either.

It's like this: I love Tuesdays. Why? Because of Buffy and 24, duh. However, what about days when they're reruns? Or not airing so the network can show some assy TV movie starring Gil Bellows that won't even crack the top 40? Well, those Tuesdays are just like Wednesdays. Or Thursdays. Or any other day. Why should I hate Tuesday just because I don't have new Buffy or 24? That would be kind of ridiculous. I mean, if I'm going to be morose and pissed off about not having love in my life, I can do it just as easily on Christmas, or Labor Day, or Flag Day, or April 16, or August 24, or when-the-fuck-ever. Without the Valentine, February 14 is still a day like any other. There's no cosmic reason it should be any better or worse than the day before or the day after. Basically, I don't need a calendar telling me when to bemoan my lot in life.

I suppose that, similarly, I don't need a calendar telling me when to celebrate love, but like I said, I enjoy the notion. A whole day all about love and suffering in the name thereof? That's so amazing. I guess the reason it doesn't depress me when I don't have a Special Someone to share the day with is because I don't limit my celebration of love to just romance or sex. Every February 14, my mommy sends me a card and a box of chocolate, and it's all good with me. I love my mommy, too, and I'm touched that she remembers to do that for me.

But enough about that. I have yet more invective to spew about my stupid job. See, I showed up this morning to find the office door locked. Again. I had to sit outside for an hour and a half, waiting for someone with a key to show up. Again. On the upside, they finally gave me my own key. Which is great, because now I can rob the place this weekend! Whee!

Also? I fucking hate everyone that calls this place. The phone has rung every twelve seconds this afternoon, and if it isn't someone trying to make a reservation for, you know, tonight, it's a cranky bastard who doesn't like being on hold for more that 0.02 minutes at a time. I seriously just got bitched out because Dolly couldn't jump right on the phone when Dr. Craphead called. Gee, sorry, Doc, it's really my fault that she was ON THE PHONE WITH A CLIENT. Oh fuck it. I don't even have the energy to be supercilious. Blow it out your ass, Dr. Craphead, and join the ranks of the mortals who have to wait for what they want.

I had a whole other tirade to go on about how we're all going to get nuked back to the bronze age, and I'm living in one of the target areas, and I'm not ready to die, but that'll have to go begging till next week. If there is a next week. Happy Single Awareness Day, everybody. Make it a good one. It may be your last!!!

my last adventure: A Face, a Place, and a Stupid Race
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my next adventure: How Could You Axe Me That, Part II