02 February 2015

Escaping Valentine's Day

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Most of you know by now that I loathe Valentine's Day. I think it represents the height of human duplicity, where in exchange for the usual flowers, chocolates, and promises you don't intend to keep you can pretend someone cares. Likewise, I hate the fact that, if you don't do something special for your significant other that day, it's like the other things you do don't matter a bit. Love isn't something that happens once or a feeling you once have. That's attraction, lust, or desire, and it's far from love. Instead, since Valentine's Day falls shortly after Lincoln's Birthday, and since this year like usual I am single, I have a plan to escape.

Frequently on holidays I dislike, I arrange to be busy elsewhere. In the past, I have gone camping for Halloween. Last year, my buddy and I went up to Zion and hiked the East Rim. Last night, I spoke with my father and invited him out shooting for President's Day, which is the Monday immediately after, only because I don't really feel comfortable going shooting on the Sabbath. Since V-Day will be on the Sabbath, I expect to be assaulted at church with lots of couples going ga-ga over each other, most of whom won't still even be talking coordially a month from now. Every year, I go see the Utah Shakespeare Festival's traveling play when it comes to town, and like most years, once again I will be going alone, which is a true shame since I get 2 for 1 tickets as an employee of higher education.

The signs of "love" on Valentine's Day are largely a trap. Love isn't something you do because the calendar tells you it's time to do something special. However, very few couples I know seem to recognize this and reject the premise that this day counts somehow more than spontaneous expressions at other times. One day, when I find someone with whom I desire to spend time and all eternity who reciprocates that, I need her to understand this. I will show you love because I love you. I will not show you because you or some catholic tradition or because of pressure in the workplace demand that I make some gesture on February 14th. If you don't know it on the other days, you won't know it then, and if that's the only day that counts, well you're not the one for me.

Over the past few years, I stood on the receiving end of some huge duplicity. Although others were "paid commensurate with experience" HR doubled down and decided with me to implement the policy of "paid commensurate with seniority" (which is the actual and legal methodology). Although women tell me that it's ok for me to lose my temper, that they will choose me, that they are willing to sacrifice for me, it doesn't seem to apply. When I am upset, they tell me to suck it up, when the time comes to choose, they move out of state instead, and when I don't do exactly what they want, all the other good things don't matter. Well, I'm done with that.

I try to be consistent. I have only deleted two posts from this blog. One was for security purposes and the other was because of an injunction against its publication. The rest I leave there because I really mean them. You can watch me change my mind and grow and develop, and if my beliefs remain the same, it's documented well back to 8 Feburary 2014 or all the way back to 2008. Very few people share their thoughts, beliefs, and opinions, and when we know anything about people in history its because interested albeit uninvolved individuals recorded their words and actions after the fact. For better or worse, I am me. For better or worse this is how I feel and think. For better or worse, I mean what I said. I really do know how to love.

Somehow, I will find a way to be away from people this Valentine's Day. Once I had a geautiful birl for whom I would have given anything if she chose me with whom I would gladly spend the day. I have a great idea of what to do too. We'd go up and walk around the Temple grounds, go have a picnic (I would take her out for Lao-Thai but it will be Sunday), then stargazing at Red Rock (since the free part is still a good place to stargaze) and then a nice evening walk. I'm so romantic, and nobody gives a flying pinwheel. If by some miracle within the next 11 days something changes, I'm open. I won't hold my breath.

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