Ledger

By Kristin Draus

As far as Valentine’s Day goes, my experience usually mirrors the scene in an episode of "The Simpsons" where Lisa Simpson, after giving Ralph Wiggum a valentine card that says, "I choo-choo-choose you," over a picture of a train, chuckles nervously while Ralph points out that she has, "choo-choo-choosed," him. Lisa’s nervous chuckle stems from the fact that she only gave Ralph the card to spare his feelings after he received no valentine cards at all.

Valentine’s Day is awkward, no? Maybe we don’t receive little cards and candy anymore, but the faux-holiday situated near the beginning of the year always seems to raise some unpleasant memories. And for some of us, we can’t help but think of the days when teachers enforced card exchanges between students.

One of the Valentine’s Day cards I received in elementary school told me I was "bear-y special." Those were simpler times, in terms of the consumerist holiday bitterly known as VD today. Back in my day, all students were essentially forced to buy those cards and hand them out to each classmate. The teacher’s utmost priority was to make sure the weird kid in the corner wouldn’t feel left out. Which is of course a good thing, because let’s face it sometimes you were that weird kid.

Then there was a turning point, probably in junior high, when Valentine’s Day wasn’t forced upon students anymore. Suddenly the holiday revolved around freely given flowers and candy. Even worse, actual dating came into play. That’s not to say boys suddenly morphed into Casanovas who dashingly swept girls off their feet. No longer confronted by a mere cheesy greeting card, some students had no choice but to face sweaty classmates who wanted to "like, you know, hang out and stuff."

Let’s not lie, any time a member of the opposite sex noticed you in high school, it was pretty much time for full-on twitterpation. Blame hormones, blame low self-esteem, blame the nature of a pushover, but the end result is the same. Romantic attention almost always flatters, and Valentine’s Day takes advantage of that basic human need for attention.

Bottom line, Feb. 14 is either cheesy or depressing, no matter your relationship status. If you’re cynical, it’s a stupid day to celebrate a stupid thing.

It seems like all relationships are doomed, everybody lies, or love is just lust. If you’re a romantic, you wax poetic and use words like "melt" and "aww." But those on the outside of the romance spectrum don’t care. Genuine interest in someone else’s love life only occurs on saccharine television shows. "Grey’s Anatomy," I’m looking at you.

As a woman, maybe it’s unfair for me to complain about Valentine’s Day. After all, the only expectations from me involve looking pleased after my boyfriend hands me a box of chocolates. Complaining is probably best left to the men who feel compelled to enter the Hallmark stores. You can recognize these guys by their disoriented motions and impulsive shopping; they grab the first greeting card they see and buy affordable – but God forbid, never the cheapest – chocolates. Still, based on that standard, the man can’t lose. To paraphrase Jane Austen, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of a cat must be in want of chocolate.

If you want to focus on the positive without surrendering to the unbearable cheesiness, then you ignore the concept of "the relationship." Valentine’s Day, no matter its historical roots, celebrates the idea of love.

Laying your heart on the line, even if it’s a glittery heart on a greeting card, can lead to emotional growth. If we mock love, where does that leave us? Lonely, sending heart-shaped boxes of chocolate to ourselves, that’s where.