Valentine Viewpoints

Disclaimer: This post is from the archives, and may not represent the current views of the author. It also may not be at all interesting to read. Continue at your own peril!

I’ve been having some problems getting onto my blog again. I’m not really sure what the problem is, but it’s getting frustrating. On the one hand, I kind of want to switch to another service. On the other hand, I have over a years’ worth of posts on this service here, and I don’t really want to a) leave all that behind or b) transfer it all over to a new system. So I’ll go with my backup plan, which is using email to send in my entry. Oh well. It’s a bit more of a hassle, but not too much. So I live and learn, and move along.

I spent yet another Valentine’s Day as a single yesterday. I don’t say that with too much regret or anything. I’ve done the same for eighteen others, and I don’t think I’ve really missed out on too much. I don’t really care much for the holiday, really. It’s a completely commercialized day, where women expect flowers and chocolate from the ones they love, and the men are pressured to spend enormous amounts of money to “prove” their love for their significant others. I mean, of course there are some women who realize this and thus don’t make a big deal about it, but then there are those who either get all offended when they don’t receive some sort of gift or use it as a tool to get things out of guys. It’s really a pathetic holiday. Saying “I love you” on Valentine’s Day means very little compared to saying it on any other day. After all, on Valentine’s Day, you’re expected to say it, and you’re also supposed to back it up with gifts and chocolate. On any other day, the words actually mean something, and you don’t have to prove it.

I think in the case of me having a girlfriend/wife on Valentine’s Day, I would do things a bit differently. Instead of just doing my duty as the average, regular guy, I would instead forget the whole day altogether. Instead, I would buy whatever I chose – whether it be flowers or chocolate, etc. – and give it to my significant other like a week early. Something like that just means so much more than doing it on Valentine’s Day, and there is the added bonus of it being a surprise. That, in my opinion, is just so much better. Of course, you could only really do this every once in a while, because otherwise it wouldn’t really be much of a surprise – but hey, it would at least show your love for the other person for that year. I would suggest doing it the day after Valentine’s Day, except that you’d most likely get your girlfriend/wife mad at you for “forgetting,” and when you presented it to her the day after, she would think that you just went out and bought the stuff to try and make up for forgetting before. So that would not be a good idea. No sir, not a good idea at all.

Last night was slightly interesting. It was definitely full of drama. You see, I have a class with a person I also work with. His name is Mike, and last week sometime he was telling me about this plan that he had. He was going to find the locker that Claire – another coworker – was using, and put a bouquet of flowers in there. They were both working on Valentine’s Day, so it was the perfect plan. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that a plan like that had the awful tendency of going horribly wrong. That was just from personal experience, really, since it was similar to a tactic I tried a few years ago with an individual who will remain nameless. I tried to win her over with a mushy little gift, and then not too long afterwards, she started going out with one of my best friends. Ouch. But anyways, he had his heart set on it, and so I wished him the best.

Here’s where things get interesting. I also worked last night, from 6-12, so I got to see all the action unfold. Mike was working from 5:30-8:30, and Claire from 8:15-11:30, so he was going to go up and put the flowers in the locker at about 7:45 or so. That was all he could talk about. So anyways, I was at the podium ripping tickets, and Oliver – yet another coworker – walked in and got some tickets. He stopped by and said hello, and I gestured to the tickets he was holding and asked him what movie he was seeing. He told me, and then I asked him, “With a date?” He replied, “Of course it’s with a date. It’s Valentine’s Day. I always have a date.” He soon walked back out of the theatre, and I continued to rip tickets, waiting until he came back in with this date of his. Soon, he came walking in, and although it was difficult to see who he was walking in with, I could tell right away that she was a good catch – in terms of looks, anyway. As they got closer, though, my jaw dropped, internally anyway. It was, of course, Claire herself. Suddenly, I felt slightly sick, as I realized that Mike was going to be oh so disappointed. And of course, there were the flashbacks to the time that I felt the same way he was going to feel as soon as he found out about the whole situation. Anyways, Claire went upstairs to put stuff in her locker, and then they went into the movie. I went over to Mike, and he looked so shocked. The whole situation had entirely been turned upside down, and now he didn’t know what to do. I told him that she had already put her stuff upstairs, so he asked me to look after concession for a couple minutes while he went and put the flowers in her locker. It was such an anticlimactic moment – such a horrible twist of irony that I couldn’t believe it. I mean, it wasn’t just that she had another date. It was the fact that it was a fellow coworker.

Anyways, after she came out, Mike told her that there was something in her locker for her, and so she went up to check and then came down and thanked him. I wasn’t around to see much of the drama unfolding from then on, but as far as I could tell, she was very gracious for it and such. It was exactly like holding up a mirror to myself and seeing myself in the same situation; after all, I had done a very similar thing myself, and I knew exactly what was running through both of their heads. I knew the confusion going on in Mike’s mind, and the slight frustration of having to gracefully let Mike down easy going on in Claire’s mind. Thankfully, they only had to work with each other for fifteen minutes, so the awkwardness could quickly fade away. Claire didn’t talk too much to me for the rest of the night. I mean, she was fairly busy, so that was part of it. But it was still just so ironic that I couldn’t believe what had just happened. That, my friends, is what you call getting burned. And burned badly, I might add. But still, that’s just life, I suppose. You put yourself out there, you try something out, and then just hope it works. And when it doesn’t, you pick yourself, dust yourself off, and try something else. ‘Tis what makes the world go ’round – people who don’t just give up, but keep on going.

There’s not much more for me to say today. I got my report card for the first semester this afternoon. I was very, very pleased with the results. I managed to pull up all three of my marks at least five percent from the mid-term mark. I finished off Geometry with an 89, Physics with a 97, and Chemistry with a 99. I also was told that I wrote a perfect score on my Physics exam, and only made one small error on my Chemistry exam. Needless to say, I was happy. I was just doing my best, and I’m thankful that it paid off. Now I just have to keep applying myself to the courses for the second semester. Even with the happiness of having a good report card, I was still in a quite reflective mood coming home from school. I rode the bus part-way home, then decided to walk the rest of the way. I just needed some time to think and talk to God. So that’s what I did. There’s not much else to say there. I just find it important to stop and think once in a while, and actually reflect on the past. It helps calm me down, and also just think through some of the decisions I have to make. And at the very least, it gives me some exercise instead of just sitting on a bus staring at the strange-looking people. But anyways, with that said, I should probably stop writing. I’ve run out of things to say, and if I don’t stop, I’m going to start rambling on about cheesecake or something. So here I go. Writing ends…now.

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