Valentine’s Day: Happy or “Humbug?”

I’ve been seeing about a fifty/fifty split on Facebook posts between

“Happy Valentines Day, [so-and-so]! I love you, (blah blah blah…)”  and

“Screw Valentine’s Day! It’s just a Hallmark holiday anyway!”

Personally, I can’t think of a reason to complain about a day where there is an abundance of chocolate and flowers around, and an increased chance of sex!  Saying those things are bad is like saying you like to kick puppies.  Also, the nay-sayers are fooling themselves if they don’t think every other holiday has become a “Hallmark holiday” as well.

Like I told my friends, via my own status, even Christmas is commercial now.  I highly doubt the twelves disciples gave one another expensive electronics or fancy jewelry to celebrate Jesus’ birthday.  Anytime a holiday results in almost as much stress (or more) as it does joy, the holiday has likely become too commercial, or strayed too far from its original meaning.

I was thinking to myself today, the point of Valentine’s Day, or any holiday, is that its significance is what you make it.  What you put into it is what you get out of it.  So, if you want to celebrate V-day, great! If not, more power to ya!  But then this day took an interesting sort of turn which left me feeling a little confused, disappointed, silly, and finally, pissy…

In the spirit of this post, I was originally going to do a Valentine’s Day photo shoot (incognito, of course!)

By the time I got done exercising, I was feeling confident and inspired.  I knew hubby was coming home for lunch (he usually does,) and I wanted to wash the funk off before he got home, but I was going to wait until after he left to go back to work to get all fixed up, and I’d also have a nice deer steak ready for dinner.  But I had some extra time when  got out of the shower, so I got dressed up in a cute little vintage strapless number that’s been gathering dust in my closet, shaved my legs, put on some make-up… I even crammed myself into those pain in the ass spanx so I’d look extra svelte in my dress.

Granted, hubby says I always look beautiful…bleh.  But when I dress up, dammit, I feel pretty…only, when hubby walked through the door, his face hanging cuz he had a headache (again,) and… nothing.  Not only was there not a “you look great,” or “Happy Valentine’s Day,” there was no change in facial expression whatsoever.  

Already feeling embarrassed, I mumbled something about wanting to look cute for Valentine’s.  And then I said, in my daughter’s direction, “But now Mommy’s going to go change cuz she just feels silly.”

~sigh~  So for about 20 minutes I kind of wanted to cry, and then hubby left to go back to work and he kissed me twice and told me he loved me…

Hubby is a bit short on romance, but he’s a good guy and he does love me.  Last night when we got back from a couple of errands, he whipped out a bag of Andes Candies he had managed to sneak by me  (I heart Andes Candies) and he said, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Well, it’s the little things that count, right?  So I made myself some “Valentine’s Day comfort coffee” with Hershey’s syrup, and dropped a couple of Andes in it to make it extra minty-chocolatey.  And now I’m going to go smoke a “Valentine’s Day cigarette.”

Yay, me.

I guess I’m still a little bummed, so… dammit, I better get some extra Valentine’s Day sex tonight, or someone’s gonna be in trouble!

Related articles

• Prevent the Valentine’s Day Blues (tylatimes.com)
• Valentine’s Day (emsontheroad.com)

Bah! Humbug! Homesick for the Holidays

Ah, the smell of BBQ, like a campfire in the fall.  My Peppermint Patty coffee creamer.  The joys of experiencing the holiday through my toddler’s eyes…

The ridiculous crowds at Walmart, the rude drivers, the stress of not having enough money to buy groceries, let alone presents…

Oh, and it’s currently 69 degrees outside.  Bah! Humbug!

But all of this I could handle if I didn’t feel so down and out.  The holidays are drawing inexorably nigh and it’s looking less and less like I’m going to make it home to see my family.  I was going to hitch a ride with my uncle in his motor home (he generously offered last year,) but he told me they had planned on taking the car this year.  This was a few weeks ago, and he said if they changed their minds, of course we could ride with them…  But it’s hard enough for my husband to get time off for the holidays ahead of time, so the closer the holidays approach before we ask, the less likely he is to be allowed off of work.  Last year, as we were the only one’s whose family is almost exclusively (with the exception of my uncle) out of state, he was the only one of his coworkers who did not get to spend Christmas with his family…any of them, because the baby and I flew home by ourselves (oh, holy night…mare that I will never repeat!)  He had off Christmas of course, but as we live 800 miles away from family, one day just isn’t sufficient travel time.

If my uncle were able to take the motor home to MD this year, I’d tell Hubby to tell his boss that he was takin’ off, and tough titty said the kitty if they didn’t like it.  It’s not right.  Seems to me they could spare him for a few days, as everyone else at his job generally stays instate.

“Tough Titty…” (Tough Kitty)

It’s bad enough I only see my parents like 3 times a year now (and consequently, they only see their granddaughter 3 times a year.)  It’s killing me, and I know it’s killing my mom.

I miss my family and I want to move back home… but I also don’t want to.  Simply put, I’d only move back to MD because most of the family is there.  Frankly, I don’t like what the place has become.  I feel safer out here with the good ol’ redneck, racist, ignorant, fat hillbillies than I would back home where I’d fear getting mugged going to the freakin’ Wawa.  I realize part of this is perception, and that there is crime everywhere…  but according to my perception, it seems like the people out here are more ignorant than actually malicious.  Prime example; last year, in my home state, a guy I went to school with was stabbed to death in his own apartment when a seventeen year old hood broke in to steal the gun my classmate had for home protection.  Did I mention he knew the kid from around the neighborhood?  Did I also mention this guy was legally blind?  Who the fuck stabs a blind guy?

But back to the point, suffice it to say this conflict of feeling is causing me some distress…

Were we to magically discover hubby had the time off of work, thus allowing us the opportunity to drive ourselves home, then there’s the question of the $300 dollars in gas we’d likely need to get there– one way.  Would our POS Explorer even make it that far?

Assuming we’re grounded and we just have to accept it, how now am I going to afford to get everyone I want to gifts?  Our parents usually understand if we can’t afford to get them anything, but I like to buy for my sisters, and then their are my nieces and nephews, and my best friend’s kids, and my cousin’s kid…

Obviously I am not the first person to observe with no small trace of irony that this holiday is not supposed to be this stressful.

Yet I feel blue, and despite what I intellectually know and what I would tell others in my position, I feel like I deserve a big lump of coal in my stocking for not being able to give my family, and most importantly, my child, the things I want to be able to give them this holiday season.

Yeah, yeah, I know.  That’s not what the holiday is about, if they really care about us, they’ll understand, and all the baby needs is love…

So why do I still feel like a giant, disappointing piece of crap?

Bah! Humbug!