So perhaps reading the novel chipped a wee chink in the ol' armor, because then this morning I'm driving in to work and my iPod is shuffling thru the music library and starts playing "Let's Face The Music and Dance" And I find myself replaying it twice and gushing over how I just LOVE this song and GAWWWD isn't it SOO romantic? And then--the next natural step-- I'm ruminating on how blasted VALENTINE'S DAY is this week. I have sick , sad relationship with V-day. I oscillate between thinking it's a sadistic ASSHOLE of a holiday and sincerely loathing it and (most of the time) acting like I loathe it when I secretly kind of love it and want in on all that schmoopy goodness. So after remembering the imminence of V-day and all that that entails, I spent the bulk of my commute steeping in a marinade of my own self-pity.
And then, I come in and (venting a little) one of my first remarks to my coworkers is : "Oh, and this week we have--puke--Valentine's Day" And Heather says "TELL ME ABOUT IT!" To which I say (much more gruffly than I'd wanted to) "Oh shut up!" And I know it's totally backward for me to come in--initiate some Valentine's Day bashing...and then snap the head off o' the first person who agrees with me. But it was just that the first agree-er was Heather --as in cute, 26 year old, celebrating her 1st anniversary with her handsome hubby this May Heather. And I felt like one of those tragic kids in a Sally Struthers commercial (but like 20X thicker of course) with Heather telling me " Oh, rice-yuck! Overrated!!"
Ugh, well that's melodramaticizing it to the extreme. Let's just say instead, I was looking for commiseration from other quarters. But still, I felt bad instantly. I mean I know it was just 3 li'l words, but it was all my TONE and that tone was scary rabid. I apologized profusely and issued a general warning that I expected to be all kinds of outta sorts this week.
You know what EXTRA sucks about this Valentine's Day? My sister is planning a Valentine's Day dinner and I already promised to come. I can't logically explain why but attending this dinner seems to me vastly more pathetic than flying solo for Valentine's Day. And I think by flying here, what I really mean is some stereotypical means of self-medicating. I mean, I don't go in much for ice cream in the cold winter months, so that rules out the pint of Ben & Jerry's but I definitely feel a bottle of wine and watching the entire Pride & Prejudice mini would not be outta the question.
I also thought I'd like to do something reckless on Valentine's Day...I feel that to be true but have no specific idea on what I mean by that. Of course 'round these monotonous parts the opportunities for Thursday night recklessness are slim to nil. And honestly, I don't have much of a talent for recklessness....as much as I'd like to.
So the reckless gesture is rather implausible. But I do think there is something noble and beatific about a good solo sulk. I should be looking at it differently, being grateful for the free dinner and glad that I have a close knit family and rationally those seem like 2 very good arguments but I just ain't feelin' 'em. I'm just kinda dreading Thursday night dinner. Which is weird, and wrong, and ungrateful of me but as I warned my office comrades, looks like I'm going to be all outta sorts this week.
So after sniping at Heather, I pop online and right off I spot a news story that rather fits in with the morning's motif of romantic reveries. I'm not clear what this story is trying to tell me. Be careful what you wish for? Naah.. that's just a jaded & bitter take on it. Although, you can't really scrounge up a silver lining here. It's a horribly sad thing...
Oh, and lest I forget we're just days away from V-day I get the below email--
Time to come on down and collect my FREE Toothface Cupid pint glass. Well, free--ostensibly only with a purchase of $10 or more. But I've always had the sense that if you went thru the hassle of printing the free pint glass coupon and going to the store but came up to the register saying "I'm sorry, I really couldn't find anything to buy. Can I still have the free glass?" they'd hand it over sans argument. And despite my myriad of V-day neuroses, I should run over and grab me one of these. I have a Toothface Turkey Pilgrim pint glass I got from Newbury Comics around Thanksgiving time and I drink out of that thang incessantly.
Perhaps this is JUST the thing, eh? Perhaps what I really need is to dilute this bouillabaisse of self-pity with many toothface cupid pint glasses full of alcohol....
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