bah humbug

For those of you who know me, I am not a huge proponent of this month's holiday.

I do not like pink.
I do not like pink and red together.
I think cuddly little bears oozing with mushiness are sort of gross.
Sometimes I'd like to take one of cupid's arrows and whack him over the head with it.

I don't really know why.

I am totally a closet romantic. I don't like PDA, and sappy things directed towards me make me extremely uncomfortable.
But I love everything about love.

Confused?

You may think I have had some horrible V-day story in the past...au contraire.
All my February 14th's have been just peachy.
I am not some girl who eats her weight in ice cream sobbing over some movie in her pj's that night because she needs a boy to validate her life.
I am not some scorned woman who holds an "i hate men" party with all her uber-feminist friends.
I just have always thought that Valentine's Day was a little...

gay.

This V-day was no different. I approached it scoffing at all the decorations and commercialism (except my power rangers valentines).
And I didn't even do anything remotely Valentiney.

But somewhere in the past few days I had a realization.
Hating Valentine's Day because of the pink, the fluff, the mush,
is like hating Christmas because of the trees, the lights, the gifts.
Hating Easter because of the eggs, the bunnies, the pastels.
Hating Thanksgiving because of the food, the football, the food.

It's ridiculous.

Those holidays aren't about any of those things. They're just a part of how we celebrate.
I thought it was so lame because there shouldn't have to be a designated day for people to proclaim their love.
But there shouldn't have to be one to celebrate the birth of Christ, or His resurrection, or to give thanks either.

Valentine's is about celebrating love, in all of it's forms.
And I love everything about love.