Wednesday, Feb. 14, 2007

Hearts and Flowers


I love Valentine's Day. I always have, and I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe it's the celebration of love, the excitement of attraction, the anticipation of unexpected presents or secret admirers. Maybe it's the freely flowing exchange of smiles and hugs. Maybe it's the freely flowing exchange of candy and cookies. Again, I'm not sure. But there it is.

While I'd like to say that this love of love's own holiday came from the vast piles of valentines and cards and candy I received in classroom exchanges, the truth of that tale is that I usually received the fewest of anyone in my class. This was before the rigid insistence by teachers and school officials that if we were to bring valentines or treats at all, we had to bring them for everyone. Oh, sure, most of my teachers encouraged this practice, and while I was always willing to sign cards for all my classmates and painstakingly tape candy of some sort to each and every one, many classmates of mine would get or make big, pretty, fancy, glittery, cards for their five best friends and ignore the rest of us. That "all or none" rule? Was created for kids just like me, who got two cards in her little hand-crafted paper mailbox while the kids in the desks around me clapped excitedly as they got 20 or 30.

I got Valentine's cards and little presents from my parents and my grandparents, which was normal to me at the time but now I know that such things are fairly rare in many families. Which, really, is a shame, in my eyes. So, the holiday started, early on, to be about loved ones and affection rather than the narrow category of what some of my elementary-school girlfriends called "boy-kissin' love". This didn't reach its full fever-pitch until I hit college, when I earned my nickname -- The Valentine Fairy.

You see, I didn't have very many friends through the first 18 years of my life, and the few I did have lived in other cities, for the most part. When I got to college, however, I bonded to the blood with a batch of folks, many of whom I still talk to or email with on a weekly basis, some 17+ years after we met. It was this love for my new friends, I think, and the love they gave back to me that caused the consequent spiral upward and explosion of affection and hearts and flowers and excitement for a day of love where I could "legally" give my friends presents for loving me, and for letting me love them. And not in a "let me buy your love" sense, but in a more simple, "I want to show you how much I care... how will I do this... um... look! Here's a whole aisle of cards devoted to the very idea! And a sale on chocolate! Affection and frugality! How insanely cool!"

Hey, I was a college student. Frugality became a beloved lifestyle.

So, The Valentine Fairy was born. I expressed the buzz of emotion in my head by dressing in pinks and reds and wearing vests with hearts all over them, wearing pins and earrings and passing out carnations and chocolate to whoever would stand still long enough to bear them. Was I obnoxious? Absolutely! But, in a harmless, goofy way, not a "oh, gods, don't hurt me, if I give you a quarter will you go play on the freeway?" way. And anyway, who doesn't need a flower and a handful of candy every now and then? That's right... NO ONE.

It didn't matter if I was single, attached, dating, newly-broken up, married, with or without a man -- Valentine's Day doesn't mean "couple-dom" to me. Never has. It's love, baby. In all forms. Though I'll tell you, as I get older, people get more and more touchy and weird about the day of love. There's the people who dress all in black, all bitter and rebelling and stuff. Which, you can certainly express yourself and your beliefs however you like. I just don't understand how, in a world where it sometimes seems that love for others and love for self has all but evaporated, people can get so angry and down on others and/or themselves. There's an opportunity here, that, in my opinion, so many people waste.

And I'm about as far from a Pollyanna as you can get without falling off the world. I'm a cynic on a good day. Maybe that's why, when I have love in my life of any kind at all, I want to hold it, express it, not take it for granted. Because I'm afraid and convinced that it'll be gone tomorrow. That something or someone will take my friends, my family, my daughter, my coworkers, even my cat, from me. I love them every day, of course, and I try and show it or say it -- I don't wait for a single day on which I can express it. However, if the world is going to write in a specific, dedicated day, where I can give gifts and cards to the people who give my life texture and nuance, who make me smile and laugh and who love me even when I do stupid things or am I giant pain in the ass or wear mismatched socks? AND! They'll provide a plethora of glittery, lacy cards and boxes of heart-shaped Jello molds?! Sign me right on up there, dude. I's gots things to SAY.

However, I just have to say that the people I really, really don't understand are the ones who act put-upon by the holiday. "It's just a stupid Hallmark holiday!" I'll get thrown at me bitchily as I'm wandering around, handing out candy and hugs and making a sugar-coated nuisance out of myself. "I'll just have to go home and take my wife/gf/so out to some ridiculously expensive restaurant, and she expects jewelry and flowers and candy, etc." Or "My husband will expect me to make some complicated dinner, and then will give me some trashy lingerie and expect marathon sex, etc." And I... don't know what to say to that, usually. While I love buying greeting cards, Hallmark or otherwise, there's absolutely nothing that says you need to buy one. Make one, if you like, or go without. Write a poem, or a love note. And, if you find your partner's expectations for the holiday are wearing you down, it sounds like you need to communicate that. The day's supposed to be about love and sacrifice, and about the pleasure that love can bring. How you, singly or jointly, choose to celebrate that is up to you or you and your other half.

But, who am I? People will do what they want, and these words will likely impact no one. In the meantime, I'll be wearing my hearts, spreading the candy around and smiling at whoever won't call the police on me. I spent the day with my coworkers laughing at me, but most of them appreciated the attention, I think. I had people chuckling at me who rarely smile, most days, and that, really, is why I do what I do.

Happy Valentine's Day. Have a cookie, because The Fairy says so.

saturncat at 9:16 p.m.

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