A day to love

I like Valentine's Day. It is usually pretty fun. My own personal way of keeping it usually involves pretending that Halloween arrives in February as well as October. In high school, this involved chopping raw meat with my cousin, Eileen while watching the X-files and then making stir-fry. In college, I killed rats in the lab (though that wasn't really in honor of Valentine's day since I killed rats most days), and in grad school, I either hosted parties where we pulverized piñatas of chubby cupids, or went on strange Valentine's day dates that seemed like something from the X-files. In Merced, my approach to Valentine's day hasn't changed much. I get to scare kids when they try to interrupt my lectures to deliver musical Valentine's day telegrams (It is fun to sort of show off that I can be really cranky). And I have also been set up on some strange Halloweenish sorts of dates. At one we ate take-out in the park. There were lighted candles and used condoms (not by us) in the grass. The candles looked more like a seance than romantic, and I could have forgiven that, but when I was told that I didn't even get to keep my own box of take-out leftovers, I knew it wasn't meant to be. On the years when there wasn't a Valentine's Day set-up, I have had some quiet dinners with good friends. This year, I will be in Lake Havasu City watching a fireworks display that includes loads of gas-bombs and other explosions, so I guess that's more like pretending that the 4th of July arrives in February, but it'll do.

Morbidity aside, I really do like Valentine's Day. It represents hope. I joke about wanting to get married so that someone can load the dishwasher while I am getting ready for a trip, or so that I can get a toaster oven (or ten) as wedding gifts. But I have hope that there is more out there than that. I don't think that there would be a national holiday to celebrate toaster ovens. (I could be wrong however.)