Tag: Valentine’s Day

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A reason for me to celebrate V-Day

A conversation with my uncle this afternoon brought me back to high school when we performed the musical Do Black Patent Leather Shoes Really Reflect Up? I played Father O’Reilly (I know, I totally look like an Irish Catholic priest) and I had a few solo lines during one of our big numbers:

The patron saints want your veneration.
They can give you a hand if you give ’em a call.

Why did this pop into my head? Because he informed me that St. Valentine is also the patron saint of epilepsy.

Regardless of my relationship status, that’s something that I have a lifelong bond with. Unfortunate, but I’ve survived this far. Survived to the point of not having a seizure in close to 12 years. It’s possible that my brain has become addled during that time—St. Valentine isn’t the patron saint of brain-addling, so he’s no help there—but at least I’m functional and that’s something I’ll always appreciate.

I promised myself I wouldn’t make any callous seizure jokes at the end of this because I really am happy that things are going as well as they are. I met someone in the United Hospital epilepsy ward back in 2001 who had dozens of staples in his head because they cut out a chunk of his brain. I’ve got a small scar on my forehead from running into a volleyball standard in fifth grade. That’s how well things are going for me.

So now I’ve missed two holidays that I’ll have to celebrate belatedly. One is St. Valentine’s Day and giving thanks to the patron saint (or just giving thanks in general). The other is 50% Off Chocolates Day because I didn’t make it to the store today and it’s too late to head out there now. That’s one I’ll definitely be celebrating tomorrow.

P.S. — In case you’re wondering, the collision with the volleyball standard didn’t cause any brain trauma. I’ve had a couple of CAT scans done on my head and they’ve revealed no physical abnormalities. Plus the scar is on the left side and the excess brain activity is on the right side. We don’t know why the seizures are happening, but they happen. Happened, past tense. I think life is better that way.

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Is “homophobia” really homophobia?

Welcome to Valentine’s Day, Singles Awareness Day and Day Before 50% off Chocolates Day 2014. (If you celebrate all three of them, you may have some explaining to do.) This year, I’m in the latter two categories, but that didn’t change the fact that I started thinking about love this morning. So many couples out there celebrating together in romantic fashion and not intentionally rubbing single people’s noses in it, but doing it anyway, which is really, really annoying. But I digress.

I know a wide range of people who enjoy Valentine’s Day with their partners: teenagers and great-grandparents, married and unmarried, straight and gay. I’m happy for all of them. But what I thought about this morning (and I honestly don’t know why it popped into my head) was the concept of “homophobia”, the fear of gay people. And maybe there are homophobes out there who are afraid of how they might be celebrating: giving each other Valentine’s Day cards, going out for a nice meal at a restaurant, cuddling while watching a romantic comedy on Netflix… pretty scary, isn’t it?

I understand some phobias. Arachnophobia: fear of spiders. Those fuzzy little things that squirm around in your hand and could crawl inside your mouth while you’re sleeping, whereas gay people… wait. Okay, maybe not a good comparison.

But a spider can bite you, inject you with poison and kill you. Acrophobia: fear of heights. Because falling down a really long distance can kill you. Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia: fear of long words. Because it’s a really long word and anyone who can pronounce it properly on their first try is probably a psychopath who plans to sneak into your bedroom tonight while you’re asleep and kill you. Lots of scary things out there.

So arachnophobes don’t want to hold spiders in their hands because they might get poisoned. Homophobes don’t want to shake a gay person’s hand because… they might get queerness on their palm that could kill them? No, they don’t want to shake hands because they hate gay people.

It seems more along the lines of sexism and racism: some people are beneath you and you want to treat them like second-hand citizens, if not worse. That’s not a phobia; that’s being an asshole. But trying to call their behavior “homoism” or “homocism”… those words don’t make any sense. And calling them assholes is both non-specific and kind of ironic, if you think about it. So what are we stuck with? Homophobia, which sucks. And not in the good way.

But I don’t want to cast a pall over the day. Valentine’s Day should be a happy celebration, even for us lonely folk because we get to smother our sorrows with half-price chocolate over the weekend. So to all of my friends who are spending the day with someone special regardless of your lifestyles, I’ll be enjoying the rest of today vicariously through you, especially since I don’t have a subscription to Netflix.

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The perfect gift for the love of your life

By the end of the day, we’ll finally be done with Valentine’s Day TV commercials, meaning I’ll see a lot less of Hallmark, jewelry stores… and pawn shops.

That’s right, Pawn America has been trying to cash in as well, offering really, really low prices for earrings, rings, necklaces, etc. I’m sure a lot of men are running to the door, scrambling through the aisles to find the best deal, then running home to give it to their loved ones tonight, right? After all, what says “I love you” more than a gift of jewelry that someone else didn’t want and sold for cash at a lot less than face value?

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You’re lonely and it’s a Monday night

Talk about a double-whammy. Welcome once again to February 14th, “Remember That All Of Your Exes Are Probably Warm And Cozy In Someone Else’s Arms” Day! And because this is a weekday, you have a much smaller window of opportunity for getting drunk in your misery and vomiting all over yourself. Of course, that means there’s also a smaller window of opportunity for your exes to see you lying on the floor covered in your own vomit, thereby making them feel better about their decision to end the relationship.

For those who have loved and lost, I hope you all make it through the day without spontaneously bursting into tears every ten minutes because of your sorrows—it probably makes for a very uncomfortable working environment.

For those who have never loved at all, enjoy buying chocolaty goodness at a 50% discount tomorrow.

And for those of you in a good relationship with your significant other (or two or three others, not counting farm animals), Happy Valentine’s Day. You suck.

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Love is in the air…

February 14th. A day of love, a day of passion, a day of sexual frustration. The biggest day of the year for people who sell flowers, chocolate, pink and red cards so bright they make your eyes water even when you’re not looking at them. And also a big day for bars, where people order large quantities of beer, multiple shots of Jagermeister, the occasional glass of water to make sure there’s more than alcohol draining from their systems when they urinate. Yep, there are people who like to celebrate with their loved ones and there are people who want to jump up on tables and cry out, “Fuck Valentine’s Day!”

So I started thinking about it: is one really the loneliest number? Sure, if you’ve got two of something, they can keep each other company. If you’ve got none, then there’s nothing to feel lonely. But isn’t that a limited conception of “one”? I mean, if you’ve got a group of 37,145,982 people, that’s one group. Does that mean the group is lonely? But if another person joins the crowd and it swells to 37,145,983, then everyone’s happy and no longer lonely. Except now there’s one group of… ah, forget it. Fuck Valentine’s Day!

(Aside from all that, if you’re reading this blog entry and want some Shawn love, I’ve got enough to share with everyone. Just don’t expect any flowers.)