Tuesday, February 13th, 2007 :: 3:56 PM
“So, Ian, you have any big plans for Valentine’s Day?”
“Oh, yes, big plans. Big, big plans. Very b… no.”
“I’ll probably just do the same thing I do every year.”
“You know, put on some Hank Williams, drink myself into a coma…”
“But, actually, I figured this year I might try something different.”
“Oh yeah? That’s great! What are you going to do this year?”
“Well, I figure if I start drinking the day before, then I can just sleep through the whole contrived farce altogether.”
“Oh. That’s, uh, very… creative.”
“Thanks, I like to consider myself a free-thinker.”
Tuesday, February 14th, 2006 :: 10:48 PM
Raise a Glass to Saint Valentine
The great thing about buying alcohol on Valentine’s Day is that, upon seeing the contents on your shopping cart — Pop Tarts, Rolos and the latest issue of the National Inquirer wherein they divulge that baseball great Babe Ruth was, in fact, a communist lesbian from Planet X — seeing the contents sprawled out on the conveyor belt like the confessions of some trashy ‘tell all’ celebrity biography, testifying to your utterly pathetic state of being — not unlike the e-mail your high school girlfriend sent to all of her friends detailing your failings as a lover — the great thing is that Cute Checkout Girl doesn’t even bother to ask for your I.D., but just gives you an odd look of pity mixed with something you can’t quite place (contempt?) and scans the bottle, leaving you to wonder what the hell you’re going to do after the Rolos are gone and do you think she’d go out with me if I just cleaned up a bit?
Monday, February 14th, 2005 :: 7:05 PM
I’m Not Bitter Anymore
So, I bet you’re thinking, “Ian’s gonna post some bitter, depressing, hateful diatrab about Valentine’s day.” Admit it, you know it crossed your mind once or twice. It’s ok, I don’t really blame you. I did help plan an entire party dedicated to defying everything the “holiday” stands for last year. And the year before that, I wrote a slightly bitter rant about it here on Daily Random. So I can’t really blame you for expecting something similar this year. Perhaps, if you’re so inclined, you’ve even been waiting in eager anticipation.
But you won’t read anything like that this year. No, I’ve grown. I’ve matured. I’m ok with my “singleness.” I’m not lonely, or bitter. I don’t miss her at all. I don’t dream about kissing. And I definitely don’t dream about cuddling. Those dreams where it’s so real you remember exactly how it felt when you wake up? Not once.
I won’t be making any depressing/hopeful/love-her/hate-her mix CDs this year. I’m not stewing in dejection, regretting all the mistakes I made–besides, that takes at least a long weekend spent driving around in my car listening to depressing music, and I just don’t have that kind of time these days, what, with my new-found sense of hope and all.
No, I’ve moved on. I’ve realized that all those authors and single’s-Bible-study leaders were right all along. God is all I need. Really, I can’t even relate anymore to all those immature Christians who think they need a “significant other” to be happy. God is so much more “significant” than some silly girl could be. If they would just realize that the huge, gaping, bloody hole in their hearts is nothing compared to the glorious riches of God’s love revealed in His one and only begotten Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ then they’d be happy. Just like me.
There’s just no comparison. I mean, just because she made you feel alive; just because all you ever needed was to hold her and when you finally could, there was nothing that could pull you away; just because… well, you see where I’m going with this. None of that means there’s any reason to be sad. Jesus loves me, what do I care about the fickle love of a woman? I just can’t believe how shallow I was before.
So, you won’t hear any of that silly whining this year. Nope. I’ve grown. I’ve matured.
Happy Valentine’s Day
Friday, February 13th, 2004 :: 4:15 PM
Magoo and I are trying to plan an Anti-Valentine’s Day tomorrow. We’re going to get a bunch of single friends together and complain about being single while watching movies and eating lots of ice cream. So, we need 1) a bitter anti-love movie; 2) a hopelessly romantic movie; and 3) two very good flavors of ice cream. Suggestions?
Friday, February 14th, 2003 :: 5:57 PM
Right, ok, it’s Valentine’s Day. Here’s How it’s Gonna Go Down…
I’ll head over to the library to pick up Grosse Point Blank. I’ll go in, see the movie, and, just as I reach for it, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life will also be reaching for it. We’ll both politely draw our hands back and say “oh, you can have it.” Being the chivalrous gentleman that I am, I’ll insist that she take it. And, being the noble woman that she is, she’ll gracefully accept. Then–and, here’s the part where my pathetic scheme pays off–she’ll notice my Apex fleece, and say something like “Oh, wow, you go to Apex?” I’ll say yes and she’ll explain how she just moved to Dayton from Montana (her dad’s an engineer with the Air Force, you see) and she’s been coming to Apex for a few weeks and thinks it’s where God wants her to call home. There’ll be an akward pause, and then I’ll ask if she’d like to watch the movie together.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Normally that would sound like a stupid pick-up line from some jerk who’s just trying to take advantage of a beautiful, Godly woman; and, normally, she, of course, would refuse. But this isn’t normal. This is divinely appointed.
So, being the divine appointment that it is, she accepts. We hit it off instantly. She has the most amazing countenance: quiet and peaceful and full of joy (Yes, even more joy than Kristi Gleason!). We make jokes throughout the whole movie, and it’s feels like we’ve know each other our whole lives. Her personality fit perfectly with mine, and after two hours we both agree that we were meant to be together.
So, don’t be surprised if y’all get a wedding invitation in the mail next week.
Update, 6:40PM: Oh Lord, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?
You want to know what happened? Ok, here it is. I checked that stupid “eCatalog” before I left and it said that they had Grosse Point Blank in stock. But, just as I was heading out the door, a thought occured to me: “hey, this would make a good post to your blog” “huh, you’re right, good thinking.” So, I sit back down, login, and type out my beautiful plan. Then, after it’s spell-checked and reworded four or five times, I hit “publish” and I’m on my way.
So, I get there, and, after holding the door open for a pretty young lady who, I thought, just might have been my aforementioned future wife, I headed over to the movie section. Well, guess what. It wasn’t there. Nope. Someone had allready gotten it. And you know what? It was her. Yeah, the girl from my plan. I missed her, all because Bob conviced me to start this stupid blog. Instead of running into the girl of my dreams, I was at home, alone, at my computer, on the Internet. It’s all your fault Bob! “This is the burning of a dream“
Oh, and, ofcourse, it wouldn’t be Valentine’s Day if the world didn’t torture me just a little bit more… On the way home I noticed that I was almost out of gas. So, I pull into my friendly neighborhood Shell, and ofcourse, the only pump available is the one without Pay at the Pump. As if that weren’t enough, the magnanimous OPEC Cartel has decided that we, quite frankly, don’t pay enough for oil, so it cost me $18.38 to fill up my tank. Eighteen dollars and thirty-eight cents to fill up a four-dour sedan. Oh, and I owe the IRS $138, because, you know, they really haven’t taken enough out of my paychecks already. Perfect.
I’ve always known that God had a dark sense of humor, but this is a little much, even for Him.