hate instead of love

I. Hate. Valentine's. Day.

There, I've said it. It's quite simple, actually. On the day when our commercial/consumerist culture says we should be thinking about red flowers, red candy, red everything, dinners, smooches, and all that jazz, I am thinking about smashing all of it. ALL. I hate how it's everywhere. Even if you want to pretend it doesn't exist, you can't help but see it. Yar. This is a long-standing pet peeve of mine. I cannot remember ever actually liking Valentine's Day. Perhaps someday, if I ever have a significant other, I won't mind it so much. But for now, my feelings towards it are quite simple: somebody take a knife and a gun and a lead pipe and any other weapon they can find and destroy it.

I must confess something, though. Yesterday, at our Princess Bride reading, there was paper and scissors and stuff, for the making of cards... and I made some. *gasp* But it's ok. They aren't Valentine's cards, per say; they're special - my own little stab at the mushiness. And it was fun to make something, especially since they turned out well. Especially the pretty black bats...

In other news, it snowed today! Then sleeted - which was quite painful, as it felt like small rocks were striking my face - then rained. So now there's slush and ice. My evening class got cancelled. Everybody's hoping tomorrow's classes also get cancelled. A friend and I braved the cold rain and slippery sidewalks to go to the dining hall and get a pizza to bring back for dinner. 'Twas quite the adventure. Mission accomplished. That was a good pizza. And I got to splash in slushy puddles! There's nothing else that cheers quite like splooshing through water in blue-striped rain boots...