Gods I'm tired of anti-Valentine bullshit.
If you don't like it, who cares?
Maybe I don't spend enough time in shopping malls.
No, there's no such thing as too little time in a shopping mall.
But really.
If you don't like it, do like you do with everything else that you can't be bothered to make an effort about.
Ignore it. It will cease to exist. The human mind is amusingly versatile that way.
Fuck, I can't believe I've fallen for my own trick and ended up talking about this anyway.
It. Just. Doesn't. Matter. If elementary school kids have fun making cards and thinking about love, good on them.
If elementary kids feel left out like I'm sure scads of us did back then, I'm sorry.
If you don't have a valentine, you've got other things to worry about, like the fact that it makes you THAT insecure.
If you do, as Andy put it, you should be showing them love more often than once a year, but if you need the media to remind you of this you retarded asshole, then so be it.
Being brainwashed by the media is a bigger problem than you think if you're so riled up about a fucking commercial holiday.
You're putting more effort into flooding my fucking mailbox with anti-valentine rants than the stores do. Good job, spamboy.
Ahem.
As for my emergency trip to the post office to bail out a buddy who's out of town and needs a bill paid before tomorrow...
That creepy greenday-wannabe guy who always tries to make eye contact WAY too obviously still bugs me.
But the incredibly sweet lady at the counter made up for it bigtime. She was SO patient with the stupid foreigner (me), explaining how an "accuss� de reception" works, so helpful, fetching my package whilst I filled things out just so she could check it for me, and explain what happens next for Alex' receipt and all that.
The package, of course, was another indication of mass marketing gone awry, the christmas present that serindipigeek didn't need to buy but did anyway, out of a sentiment far nobler than "obligated to give stuff".
ANd it's a wonderful book, and books are such a great gifts beyond their packaging.
But the biggest gift was once again those carefully crafted words in his note, that bit right through everything and brought those tears welling right up.
Damn,but I have to learn to write like that boy.
And all that effort into sending it so far. And all the meaning behind the sentiment, the immense acknowledgement, the clever idea.
Really, it was a gianormous hug in a box, the best thing ever.
Who needs presents on Christmas (bright-eyed unspoiled children excluded)? I just want hugs, for fuck's sake, and the atmosphere... And aside from wrapping-paper wars, making such a materialistic deal out of such a great idea for a holiday is just as bad as repackaging hershey candy in even more environmentally disastrous colours in an attempt to brighten February that everyone seems intent on ruining in their own misery.
Dammit, I'm ranting angrily and irrationally, and will cease to be quite so childishly annoyed momentarily.
In the meantime, just please explain why it matters so much that you feel the need to hate it and ruin something that might be making someone else happy?
(she says thinking of the number of times she's ruined a TV show for someone out of her own prejudice and fears, and worse still)