Holidays Invented by Card People

Today is Valentine's Day. Or, as men like to call it, extortion day.
--Jay Leno 

"On Valentine's Day, millions of men give millions of women flowers, cards and candy as a heartfelt expression of the emotion that also motivates men to observe anniversaries and birthdays: fear.
 --Dave Barry

I can't remember exactly when I decided I hated Valentine's Day. 
It may have been the envelop glue stuck to my tongue in gradeschool, stuffing those corny little cards into envelops for kids I prayed might like me one day. 

Maybe it was in high school, when hormones were raging, but, due to my school's anti-dating policy, jealousy and bitterness weren't necessary because NO boy walked down the hall with roses for his sweetie and NO girl was crying/giggling/smirking about how perfect her boyfriend was. Or, if they were, I was too oblivious to notice.

 I think, though, it was probably in college. Outside our dorms were sets of swinging benches, ominously called "The Lover's Swings." Every night, it was like Aphrodite slithered through our campus, drawing young couples into dark corners and those forsaken swings, right under our windows, so we could all hear the nauseating sweet nothings. I found two highly-esteemed leaders in the student body making out behind a dumpster once. Scared me more than it scared them.  A friend of mine was strategically positioned above the Lover's Swings--couldn't get to sleep for all the mushy murmurs. We had a plan to prop the window open and throw toy skulls and shrunken heads down there one night. The only problem? Her window fancied itself a guillotine.  Yes, I'm thinking college was the seedling for the hatred. 

One year, Chris and I celebrated Valentine's Day. Just one, our first V-day together. He sent me the prettiest silk heart-shaped box filled with every white chocolate confection imagined. To top it off, he drove up a day early to visit me as a Valentine's Day surprise then presented me with one of my favorite cult TV shows: Invader Zim. How did I spend that weekend? Puking up chocolate. Poor Chris. After that, we were either too busy or too cheap or too against modern consumerism. It's our joint-effort against the card companies. 

But then I found myself in Target surrounded by adorable-ness. I was hunting for V-day gifts for my students (I mean, come on,  I might hate it, but my cynicism shouldn't effect a child's joy, right?) , and suddenly found my cart filled with reds, pinks, glitter, and chocolate. It was as if Barbie had suddenly puked all over my shopping list. In the end, I resisted and put everything back but the classroom goodies.  Not only can I not afford it, but I WILL not be drawn in by marketing . . . even if it is covered in adorable dinosaurs holding hearts saying "Hi." 

Ok, so I totally bought those dino plates for cupcake decorating tomorrow. 


And why the crap did I decide I was dying to make cupcakes? Oh yeah, cause the little packaging and heart-covered paper cupcake cups were adorable. Blech.

I think I was brainwashed.