I know that as a person who is both a feminist and single, I’m supposed to hate Valentine’s Day. But I don’t. I mean, I hate the heteronormativity and the conspicuous consumerism and if anyone ever bought me velour lingerie or a diamond heart necklace I would immediately end the relationship and go home alone. But a holiday dedicated to love isn’t a terrible idea, is it? As long as we’re celebrating virgin births and great presidents, we might as well give ourselves an excuse to go out to dinner and buy flowers, right? (I could just be biased because I happen to really like dinner and flowers).
Twisty, in her usual Twisty fashion, casts a jaundiced eye on Valentine’s day. TigTog asks for your worst v-day stories. So there’s all kinda of anti-V-Day-ness going on today (and I’m fully in support of that, too).
I actually don’t have any terrible Valentine’s day stories (luckily, I still have a lot of time). I have a few nice ones. But I don’t really read a whole lot into Valentine’s day — it makes me smile when I see people walking down the street with flowers, and I think all the dressed-up and happy couples are adorable, but I don’t feel particularly left out for not partaking this year. Instead, I’m looking forward to a night of sushi, Malbec and LOST.
Plus, if I had a boyfriend this year, I’d be forced to choose between him and the double-wammy of Sawyer and Sayid. And I think we all know how that word turn out.
What are you doing tonight?