Thursday February 13, 2003

Love defined (not by the dictionary)

I have nothing interesting or witty to say today, so if you're looking to be entertained stop reading now. My brain is just one big jumbled mess at the moment, and my thoughts are really disorganized (and pointless).

I hate Valentine's Day. For that 24-hour period, Hallmark controls the universe. Every year around this time I get nightmares about cheesy heart-shaped boxes that come alive and devour me.

Valentine chocolate always gets thrown away half eaten (does anybody really eat the orange coconut butter creams?) Do our hunny-bunnies really care for that crap? I would rather have someone tell me, "Drina, I appreciate your love and friendship," than hand me a Whitman's Sampler.

Of course, many people are into those kinds of things. They are probably the same people who have wooden teddy-bear cutouts on their living room walls that say Home Sweet Home on them.

Someday I'm going to start my own holiday. Maybe I'll call it, "Let's Help an Unemployed Single Mom Find a Job Day." Everyone can go out, help an unemployed single mom find a job, then give her a box of chocolates. Unless that would be too cheesy.

Tomorrow I'm going to get a card from my friend, Sarah, and probably a lolly-pop from my floor's RA. And I'll most likely spend the rest of the night making fun of couples who give each other heart-shaped boxes of orange coconut butter creams. I'm mean like that.

This holiday is getting me down. Modern love is nothing more than sugar and lingerie. Real love is another story entirely... We're told to love our neighbors and our enemies. It's not happening.

Will it ever?