This part has nothing to do with the rest of the post, but I was told earlier this week, "You seem like the kind of person who secretly has a tattoo. Like, all of Corinthians on your back, in really tiny print." ('sup Tarik. Yeah, you is gettin' a shout-out.) I can't decide if this is absurdly accurate or just absurd but either way I love it. Thoughts/opinions?
There is very little limit to the things I hate this week. The list includes people who park across two spaces, that ten minutes in the morning when not one of my radio presets is actually playing music, those who speak when they have no clue about the topic, anyone who stands in doorways when I'm trying to walk, my brief, getting cold-called and being on call in one day, the completely inadequate amount of sleep I've received in the past three days, the fact that I'm currently blogging instead of writing my brief, aaaaand the fact that I just used "blog" as a verb. I told myself I wouldn't go there, and I did. Oh, I did.
Guess what, kiddies? My FAVE holiday is coming up, and I think you all know what it is!!!!111 VALENTINE'S DAYYYYYYAAAAYYY!
I don't know if I have any readers who don't know me personally/don't have access to my Facebook page, but my unfortunate day of birth is February 14th. Frankly, this is bullshit. I am not designed to be born on that day. However, because I am, I decided a long time ago that this gave me the Golden Ticket to get into the factory, drink the whole damn chocolate river, and hate on V-Day as much as humanly possible. I am also going to call the day in question VD for the rest of the post, and you will both enjoy it and appreciate it, mmmkay?
You may find it interesting to know that I am not single, and still hate this holiday. My poor boy is scrambling as we speak to not be a fail for both my birthday and TEH MOST ROMANTIK DAI EVAR and in case I wasn't clear enough to him over the past week: calm down, dude. You doin' jus' fine.
For a majority of my life, I was single on this day, which accomplishes two goals: making me feel like shit for being alone on both VD and my birthday, and making me feel like shit for attempting to claw my friends away from their respective significant others to spend the day with me, celebrating my aging. Nearly every ign'ant person I spoke to, upon finding out my birthday was on Venereal Disease, said "OH EM GEE, that's so cute! He'd better get you two gifts!!!!1111"
If someone's born on Christmas Day, do you say "I hope Santa brings you two presents!" No, because you will later find out the kid's a Buddhist. If someone's born on July 4th, do you say "I hope the country you live in celebrates its independence TWICE!" If someone's born on April Fools' Day, do you say "I hope people pull twice the number of unfunny, unoriginal jokes for you because it's YOUR DAYYYY" No, because ign'ance apparently stops at "You were born on VD = you came out of the womb with a macking partner."
Hallmark's decided it's runnin' this, let's go (I'M ON A BOAT! I'm on a boat, motha f***as, buy cliches from me), and Kay Jewelers is conceited enough to believe that every bit o' lovin' comes directly from the sparklies it sells. I wonder if they shot down "Every conception begins with Kay's" before settling on their current slogan.
They've also managed to make every girl in the world look like the lisping female every male stand-up comedian turns women into (can we stop this? Not joking here. You whack, you twisted, your Stereotype of a Girl's a ho. Stop making me lisp and sound nasally and maybe, just maybe, I won't make you eat your own microphone), by implying that even if yo' woman don't say she want a li'l bit of ice, she SO do, son. She want that sparkly shit all up in her earlobes, on her neck, it don't matter if she say she don't want it. You know she do 'cause all girls be wantin' that shit.
So, even when we say we don't want diamonds, or even want anything at all, you've decided we're lying, and we do? Anybody else see a problem with this? My lovely friend Kyrie puts it this way: "I don't need roses. Just a little consideration. And that doesn't secretly mean I want diamonds: when I want diamonds I will tell you I want diamonds... Just be nice to me all year and we're good."
It's gotten better-ish now than it was in middle and high school (probs because I was lonely/alone for most of that time, and even more awkward than I am currently, if you can believe it: all of the geekiness, none of the confidence), but during those times I pretty much wanted to walk around with a switchblade and hack the limbs off of any 4-foot teddy bear I saw being carried through the hallways. The first bunch of years there weren't super text-riffic, but I can just imagine them now:
Teen 1: ooo gurl u got 2 see tha teddy bear tha boi got me its sooo cute
Teen 2: awww u so lucky!!! did he get u nething else
Teen 1: yea he got me that braclet at claires that i showed u, remember its got hearts all ovah it
Teen 2: yeah i remember it cant beleive its 3 weeks since u guyz hooked up
Teen 1: omg i no i totally luv him and were goin 2 panera tonight 4 dinner
Teen 2: oo u slut i hate u jkjk u no i love u bitch <3
Teen 1: u bitch jkjkjk i luv u ho
I was the girl wearing black at first, and then in later years handing out candy to every one because f*** that if you don't get chocolate on VD because you're not dating someone. Chocolate is delicious and everyone should have some. Which is why I'm going to go to CVS in the next twelve hours and buy a giant, heart-shaped collection of deliciousness and eat it all myself because I CAN.
Dear Lord Jesus I hate this holiday.
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