Welcome To Suburbia
Our own lives are so fucked up
We know we belong nowhere at all
When everything seems so foolish
You made it that way, you know?
That road you see ahead
Will not pave itself
Only your soul can render your path
and time can make the murky water clear
All the people I know
are usually angry and miserable
yet sometimes they seem happy
That is only medicine and fickleness talking
It is about time to charge the world full speed
because idle lives result in idle meaning
Our friends will die someday
and we wont even know their favorite color
Friday, March 10, 2006
Thursday, March 09, 2006
a crappy poem
a shitty morning and a shitty poem ha
Its the morning time and in a half hour I am off to school...social philosophy. well, at least this week we are talking about drug legalization, it should be interesting. I dont really know what to say in this blog entry because like I said last night, all of this is therapeutic. I am having an okay morning, its a little rough I admit considering yesterday I didnt give my problems a second thought. I wrote a shitty poem yesterday. here it is:
These lonely summer days
where summer classes are years apart
and you smoke with long lost friends
who are also years apart
and all you have is the good old days
but nothing new has happened
and the one you love, the one you want
is so far away
are they thinking about you?
you have a car but you cant afford to drive it
you get the occasional visitor but cant afford to entertain them
everyone is working
partially you dont want a job and partially you cant find one
its too hot to even eat or dance
children are beginning to soak in the streets
because the summer lasts forever
but I feel as far away as the winter snow
Its the morning time and in a half hour I am off to school...social philosophy. well, at least this week we are talking about drug legalization, it should be interesting. I dont really know what to say in this blog entry because like I said last night, all of this is therapeutic. I am having an okay morning, its a little rough I admit considering yesterday I didnt give my problems a second thought. I wrote a shitty poem yesterday. here it is:
These lonely summer days
where summer classes are years apart
and you smoke with long lost friends
who are also years apart
and all you have is the good old days
but nothing new has happened
and the one you love, the one you want
is so far away
are they thinking about you?
you have a car but you cant afford to drive it
you get the occasional visitor but cant afford to entertain them
everyone is working
partially you dont want a job and partially you cant find one
its too hot to even eat or dance
children are beginning to soak in the streets
because the summer lasts forever
but I feel as far away as the winter snow
some high school crap i wrote
another bunch of enjoyable prose by yours truly....(names have been changed to protect the convicted)
Are there mornings that you have awoken in your bed to find yourself more connected then usual? Do you find that as the sunlight scatters through your white blinds, you don’t feel like disconnected flesh living in a synthetic world of plaster, wood and metal? You feel part of something, part of the chill you get when your bare feet touch the rug for the first time that day. You don’t feel as if you are fending for yourself, that perhaps as part of this greater mass of everything you are being held responsible for just as much as you are responsible for everything else. You feel that what you put in to it all, you receive back and the cycle cannot break if you do not break it. Even though your body may feel sore and stiff, there is still a softness to it that no weathering or physical demand can harden. This softness comes from all the hardship of life, all of the severe blows to every part of you, from your head to your heart and to your soul. And with the constant beatings received, to wake just one morning of dozens to feel as if you meld with everything known and unknown to man cracks and melts even the hardest of shells. Often when we were younger and didn’t have half the perils on our minds as we do currently, we would sit and ponder existence in the simplest form we knew how. We would say to ourselves, one day I am going to die and my life will end but I am living it right now. This isn’t a TV show or a movie but rather my life. And every second I am getting closer to death; and for one split second the vast world narrows into a shockwave of a feeling and a chill, much like the one you first get when a winters morning comes over you. But then you forget and continue on with your life. And as we get older these quick, momentary feelings of sentience occur less and less. When we were younger every morning we felt connected and part of everything and now as we grow we must work for those mornings. But the feeling is far sweeter and thicker than those we felt as small children.
I have the kiss of death. Or maybe it’s much simpler and less mysterious if I call it uncanny coincidences. Or perhaps it is just the universe taking courses of actions in its responsibility of my well being and protection. I will tell you several occasions in which you may say there is no way it is the workings of something more, and if that’s the case, you probably shouldn’t be reading anything I have scribed due to the fact that I believe everything is the workings of something more. Now beware, there is no chronology to this it is what first comes to mind, so I guess its fair to say the most impacting are the ones I recall first. Taylor. Taylor was a result of my hormones working at a quick, brisk and forceful pace. We slept together, twice in the same night I might add. The next night he got severely drunk and was in a car crash. He was all right but his car and possessions were taken and he had no money or mode of getting back to his home in New England. I might add to this the fact that he acted (after the sex of course) in a manner that was uncalled for and radically different from before we engaged in the acts of intimacy. Some woman like to refer to this as “being a complete asshole” and no other more appropriate phrase comes to mind at this time so I will use this. Taylor was a complete asshole to me after sex. He ignored and eventually left me. Suffice to say the next night only hours after his incident, he was whimpering to me about his tragedy and indirectly asking for my help. I pretended to act concerned but just politely walked away when he was done speaking. I was being a complete asshole.
Darren. Now this Darren incident happened 3 months after the Taylor incident. It was a teenage party. Alcohol was involved. Now in my years as a high schooler I was not often invited to parties where the normal hedonistic teenage things happened. I consumed alcohol several times before so I knew what to do, but didn’t drink enough to know my radical social behavioral change. However, males picked up on it right away. Specifically one (feminist use of the word: Dog.) dog named Darren who I had heard very little about was the lucky contestant to try me in my state of inebriation. The night had already proved semi-promiscuous for me and I partially was pushed and partially pushed myself into a situation that involved pants and panties off while a skinny, tall man hopped on top of me. He had control and I had none. Under a lesser state of drunkenness or sobriety, I would have firmly rejected him but I could only groan under his grip of me. Lucky for me however it was a party of people who knew me, mischievous ones too who liked to embarrass and play tricks on others. They continuously slammed the door open, several times until I was alerted to the actions being engaged in. I quickly shot up, found clothing, and left the room in a hurry. I went home not 15 minutes later. A few days later, my gregarious sister told me something we both found interesting. Apparently that night, Darren hadn’t left too much after I did, still drunk himself and got into a car accident that not only totaled his car but his face as well. He even needed surgery or something to repair the damage done! If I had slept with him, he might not have gotten into that crash, or maybe if we hadn’t even touched at all he wouldn’t have gotten into that crash. No one may ever know.
Are there mornings that you have awoken in your bed to find yourself more connected then usual? Do you find that as the sunlight scatters through your white blinds, you don’t feel like disconnected flesh living in a synthetic world of plaster, wood and metal? You feel part of something, part of the chill you get when your bare feet touch the rug for the first time that day. You don’t feel as if you are fending for yourself, that perhaps as part of this greater mass of everything you are being held responsible for just as much as you are responsible for everything else. You feel that what you put in to it all, you receive back and the cycle cannot break if you do not break it. Even though your body may feel sore and stiff, there is still a softness to it that no weathering or physical demand can harden. This softness comes from all the hardship of life, all of the severe blows to every part of you, from your head to your heart and to your soul. And with the constant beatings received, to wake just one morning of dozens to feel as if you meld with everything known and unknown to man cracks and melts even the hardest of shells. Often when we were younger and didn’t have half the perils on our minds as we do currently, we would sit and ponder existence in the simplest form we knew how. We would say to ourselves, one day I am going to die and my life will end but I am living it right now. This isn’t a TV show or a movie but rather my life. And every second I am getting closer to death; and for one split second the vast world narrows into a shockwave of a feeling and a chill, much like the one you first get when a winters morning comes over you. But then you forget and continue on with your life. And as we get older these quick, momentary feelings of sentience occur less and less. When we were younger every morning we felt connected and part of everything and now as we grow we must work for those mornings. But the feeling is far sweeter and thicker than those we felt as small children.
I have the kiss of death. Or maybe it’s much simpler and less mysterious if I call it uncanny coincidences. Or perhaps it is just the universe taking courses of actions in its responsibility of my well being and protection. I will tell you several occasions in which you may say there is no way it is the workings of something more, and if that’s the case, you probably shouldn’t be reading anything I have scribed due to the fact that I believe everything is the workings of something more. Now beware, there is no chronology to this it is what first comes to mind, so I guess its fair to say the most impacting are the ones I recall first. Taylor. Taylor was a result of my hormones working at a quick, brisk and forceful pace. We slept together, twice in the same night I might add. The next night he got severely drunk and was in a car crash. He was all right but his car and possessions were taken and he had no money or mode of getting back to his home in New England. I might add to this the fact that he acted (after the sex of course) in a manner that was uncalled for and radically different from before we engaged in the acts of intimacy. Some woman like to refer to this as “being a complete asshole” and no other more appropriate phrase comes to mind at this time so I will use this. Taylor was a complete asshole to me after sex. He ignored and eventually left me. Suffice to say the next night only hours after his incident, he was whimpering to me about his tragedy and indirectly asking for my help. I pretended to act concerned but just politely walked away when he was done speaking. I was being a complete asshole.
Darren. Now this Darren incident happened 3 months after the Taylor incident. It was a teenage party. Alcohol was involved. Now in my years as a high schooler I was not often invited to parties where the normal hedonistic teenage things happened. I consumed alcohol several times before so I knew what to do, but didn’t drink enough to know my radical social behavioral change. However, males picked up on it right away. Specifically one (feminist use of the word: Dog.) dog named Darren who I had heard very little about was the lucky contestant to try me in my state of inebriation. The night had already proved semi-promiscuous for me and I partially was pushed and partially pushed myself into a situation that involved pants and panties off while a skinny, tall man hopped on top of me. He had control and I had none. Under a lesser state of drunkenness or sobriety, I would have firmly rejected him but I could only groan under his grip of me. Lucky for me however it was a party of people who knew me, mischievous ones too who liked to embarrass and play tricks on others. They continuously slammed the door open, several times until I was alerted to the actions being engaged in. I quickly shot up, found clothing, and left the room in a hurry. I went home not 15 minutes later. A few days later, my gregarious sister told me something we both found interesting. Apparently that night, Darren hadn’t left too much after I did, still drunk himself and got into a car accident that not only totaled his car but his face as well. He even needed surgery or something to repair the damage done! If I had slept with him, he might not have gotten into that crash, or maybe if we hadn’t even touched at all he wouldn’t have gotten into that crash. No one may ever know.
a blog from 9/27/04
04:26 pm - the first day of an expensive semester
howdy ho! Tis the first day of school and as I walked onto the green, shiny, less than standard Rider campus I could pick out each and every freshman like they were brown spots on a single, porcelain, sanctuary. I think after your first year in college, they implant a freshman detection device in you, and you can see and hear the godforsaken sounds of high school emigrants. They are cheery, red-cheeked, fresh faced and hopeful of attaining a higher level of being in their new adult life- "college". Its putrid. I hate them, just kidding. Anywhoo, my history class, US HISTORY 1 is tres boring, although I am glad to have my super intelligent, triple major, fellow Ukrainian cronie, Lada Pastushak! She is really cool, and really smart which on a good day makes me feel saavy and intelligent, and on a bad day makes me feel inferior. Friends are wonderful, but acquaintances in the classroom are even better. I am currently reading Moby Dick, something I have always been interested in reading but hear its a bitch to get through. I am on chapter 4 and have basically just been carrying around the book with me to classes, in hopes of people staring at it and thinking I am smarter than they are. Its Darwinism baby.
Herman Melville is funny and he is really excited about water and the sea. I remember sophomore year English class, we read Billy Budd and other tales by Melville and a particular John Yi raised his hand only to ask, "Is Herman Melville gay?" and since then everytime I hear the word "sailor" in Melville's books, I laugh and think of John. John may or may not have been gay but he is certainly Christian, which makes his sexual life very interesting and a topic of humor in any case.
I digress, so here is some more digression.
My mom got a pamphlet and flyer in the mail from the Sierra club which is the biggest non-profit environmental group in the country. They were asking her to join for 15 dollars, and help save Sequoia trees which Bush is trying to chop down and build Marriotts in its place. Not only do you sign petitions, but you help a good cause, so I am thinking I may in fact join...also you get a free backpack...BUT THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. I CANT HELP IT! I am a CAPITALIST, I WANT THE FREE BACKPACK AND WOULD HAVE THROWN THE PLEA OUT OTHERWISE. Maybe not, but the backpack is a wonderful lure, and I will buy into it.
howdy ho! Tis the first day of school and as I walked onto the green, shiny, less than standard Rider campus I could pick out each and every freshman like they were brown spots on a single, porcelain, sanctuary. I think after your first year in college, they implant a freshman detection device in you, and you can see and hear the godforsaken sounds of high school emigrants. They are cheery, red-cheeked, fresh faced and hopeful of attaining a higher level of being in their new adult life- "college". Its putrid. I hate them, just kidding. Anywhoo, my history class, US HISTORY 1 is tres boring, although I am glad to have my super intelligent, triple major, fellow Ukrainian cronie, Lada Pastushak! She is really cool, and really smart which on a good day makes me feel saavy and intelligent, and on a bad day makes me feel inferior. Friends are wonderful, but acquaintances in the classroom are even better. I am currently reading Moby Dick, something I have always been interested in reading but hear its a bitch to get through. I am on chapter 4 and have basically just been carrying around the book with me to classes, in hopes of people staring at it and thinking I am smarter than they are. Its Darwinism baby.
Herman Melville is funny and he is really excited about water and the sea. I remember sophomore year English class, we read Billy Budd and other tales by Melville and a particular John Yi raised his hand only to ask, "Is Herman Melville gay?" and since then everytime I hear the word "sailor" in Melville's books, I laugh and think of John. John may or may not have been gay but he is certainly Christian, which makes his sexual life very interesting and a topic of humor in any case.
I digress, so here is some more digression.
My mom got a pamphlet and flyer in the mail from the Sierra club which is the biggest non-profit environmental group in the country. They were asking her to join for 15 dollars, and help save Sequoia trees which Bush is trying to chop down and build Marriotts in its place. Not only do you sign petitions, but you help a good cause, so I am thinking I may in fact join...also you get a free backpack...BUT THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. I CANT HELP IT! I am a CAPITALIST, I WANT THE FREE BACKPACK AND WOULD HAVE THROWN THE PLEA OUT OTHERWISE. Maybe not, but the backpack is a wonderful lure, and I will buy into it.
Rainy Day Blog from 10/13/05 entitled "meet me at the fountain"
ey all,
So! I always feel like there is nothing to say, but oh the experiences I have everyday could fill a book! If I did that, I would have, well alot of books. Well here I am on this very rainy, very beautifully miserable Thursday in the lab on a silly mac computer listening to The Smiths self-titled waiting for class to begin at 3:30 and I feel happy. My mother told Dan, my sister and myself last night that she is thinking about getting her tubes untied and having another baby. (she is 42!) The three of us were surprised but we definitely played the spock, kirk, bones bit. I was very happy that she decided what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, my sister was bewildered and disgusted and Dan was indifferent, but I think he agreed that she should live her life the way she wanted to, very very Nietzsche.
I think I am seriously going to travel next summer. Dan wants to go cross-country in a van but I want to go overseas. We cant agree on anything, but they say that the best friend you have is also your adversary because they help you make yourself better, sharper, more ambitious. Also being veg again is very very good.
I have really done nothing except for spending my days lounging and avoiding studying. Although, I am devoted to my several clubs and I am making friends somewhat, a cool, stoner Bengali in Platforms and a sister of a kid I went to high school with who is unlike any of her siblings, smart, ambitious, red-headed, confrontational, opinionated. She makes me feel like an empowered woman, and the Bengali makes me feel like a giddy child with wide, open eyes. My one friend graduated and I have not seen him or heard from him since, but that happens very often at Rider. I meet people in classes and never see them again, actually that happens alot in life.
I am disgusted with myself as usual. This slave-morality I have, this debt I have makes me miserable. I must become the ubermensch, but what kind of existence would it be without this misery?
The other day, i put some foundation makeup on my face, looked at myself and almost threw up. I washed it off immediately and fell asleep.
This rain is fabulous, aside from the barometric headache I have, but the rain always washes away all the bad feelings you have. In fact, the rain almost seems to wash away bad people, bad dreams, anything that bothers you goes tabula raza when the rain comes.
Also, Fuck Plato.
So I am having this Halloween party in two weeks and I am concerned. We have people coming, Dan's hometown friends, his Field Camp friends, some of our Rider friends, a few personal friends of mine but I have contacted many of my hometown friends who go to college nearby and noone is responding to me at all. Perhaps they did not enjoy the last one or perhaps I am but a distant glimmer of a thought in their memories of high school which seems like decades ago whereas for me, these people are huge portions of my life and very distinct characters in my story. Well, I dont feel bad, I am just wondering. Maybe it is as simple as they dont want to come. Fair. I dont want to dress up because its too much work and money. Maybe I will do some crazy hair and a mask.
Well, I am done.
love,
stephanie
So! I always feel like there is nothing to say, but oh the experiences I have everyday could fill a book! If I did that, I would have, well alot of books. Well here I am on this very rainy, very beautifully miserable Thursday in the lab on a silly mac computer listening to The Smiths self-titled waiting for class to begin at 3:30 and I feel happy. My mother told Dan, my sister and myself last night that she is thinking about getting her tubes untied and having another baby. (she is 42!) The three of us were surprised but we definitely played the spock, kirk, bones bit. I was very happy that she decided what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, my sister was bewildered and disgusted and Dan was indifferent, but I think he agreed that she should live her life the way she wanted to, very very Nietzsche.
I think I am seriously going to travel next summer. Dan wants to go cross-country in a van but I want to go overseas. We cant agree on anything, but they say that the best friend you have is also your adversary because they help you make yourself better, sharper, more ambitious. Also being veg again is very very good.
I have really done nothing except for spending my days lounging and avoiding studying. Although, I am devoted to my several clubs and I am making friends somewhat, a cool, stoner Bengali in Platforms and a sister of a kid I went to high school with who is unlike any of her siblings, smart, ambitious, red-headed, confrontational, opinionated. She makes me feel like an empowered woman, and the Bengali makes me feel like a giddy child with wide, open eyes. My one friend graduated and I have not seen him or heard from him since, but that happens very often at Rider. I meet people in classes and never see them again, actually that happens alot in life.
I am disgusted with myself as usual. This slave-morality I have, this debt I have makes me miserable. I must become the ubermensch, but what kind of existence would it be without this misery?
The other day, i put some foundation makeup on my face, looked at myself and almost threw up. I washed it off immediately and fell asleep.
This rain is fabulous, aside from the barometric headache I have, but the rain always washes away all the bad feelings you have. In fact, the rain almost seems to wash away bad people, bad dreams, anything that bothers you goes tabula raza when the rain comes.
Also, Fuck Plato.
So I am having this Halloween party in two weeks and I am concerned. We have people coming, Dan's hometown friends, his Field Camp friends, some of our Rider friends, a few personal friends of mine but I have contacted many of my hometown friends who go to college nearby and noone is responding to me at all. Perhaps they did not enjoy the last one or perhaps I am but a distant glimmer of a thought in their memories of high school which seems like decades ago whereas for me, these people are huge portions of my life and very distinct characters in my story. Well, I dont feel bad, I am just wondering. Maybe it is as simple as they dont want to come. Fair. I dont want to dress up because its too much work and money. Maybe I will do some crazy hair and a mask.
Well, I am done.
love,
stephanie
PARTY BLOG FROM 10/31/05 entitled "Fat Buddha Exits"
Here I am! Still alive! Not very surprising since I had no intention on waking up otherwise, my Halloween party was raging! Dan is the life of the party when he is drunk, its amazing...he was the king of apple-bobbing and he beat the shit out of a pumpkin pinanta that he kept calling the Nazi Pumpkin. I wore the smashed pumpkin head the rest of the night, and since a mini bottle of jack daniels broke inside it, everyone told me I smelled like booze. It was the punkin head! Well, I also drank half a bottle of whiskey by myself...but I swear it was the head! The whole party ended being a sausage party and towards the end of the night, people came in that I didnt know and ate my food and I was like "whatev". So, because it was a dude party, the only girls there was me, my sister, my cousin, and several other girls who were attached to guys. My cousin is a cutie but she wasnt uber social so my sister got ALL the attention and I was pretty glad because she has been feeling down lately and maybe all of the dudes wanting her made her feel good. I think everyone had a good time, and I only made 1 person feel bad and that was because I blurted out things I shouldnt have (usual?) but he isnt too hurt I dont think and I apologized profusely, I need to learn to shut up but whiskey makes me brutally vociferous. I love parties, but only if they are my own. Tom and Pat Sheridan ended up staying over which was cool, i like them! Skodnick didnt drink, but I think he had a good time...everyone else got ripped. My sister freaked out and kicked a hole in her bedroom wall. ack.
My next 'party' is going to be like a holiday potluck or something, so all of my friends usually in college can join in, make a dish and drink wine and see people. Here is a list of interesting things lately:
1. I am too fat.
2. Sulu is gay, but Im not entirely surprised, meaning his sexuality was never the interest or appeal of the character image in Star Trek.
3. listening to alternative radio can be wonderful but also detrimental especially when they play a shitty nu metal song just because its indie and someone you know walks in and thinks that this is the music you listen to all the time
4. i should have done study abroad in india, damn.
Names I always wanted to call people when I am angry but way too nice and/or forgetful to use them:
1. eunuch
yeah, thats it really.
so.
today I have work, class, work, work work worWORKROWRK! ahhh
good day,
steph
My next 'party' is going to be like a holiday potluck or something, so all of my friends usually in college can join in, make a dish and drink wine and see people. Here is a list of interesting things lately:
1. I am too fat.
2. Sulu is gay, but Im not entirely surprised, meaning his sexuality was never the interest or appeal of the character image in Star Trek.
3. listening to alternative radio can be wonderful but also detrimental especially when they play a shitty nu metal song just because its indie and someone you know walks in and thinks that this is the music you listen to all the time
4. i should have done study abroad in india, damn.
Names I always wanted to call people when I am angry but way too nice and/or forgetful to use them:
1. eunuch
yeah, thats it really.
so.
today I have work, class, work, work work worWORKROWRK! ahhh
good day,
steph
v-day
It has come to my attention that several parties have qualms with a day celebrated on the 14th of February known as Valentine's Day. A few arguments have been circulating including the following.
Firstly, some argue that Valentine's Day is ridiculous to celebrate since one is obliged to love a significant other or family member EVERY day, not just on Valentine's Day. While I do agree that the Day is semi-ridiculous, I think the first justification is invalid. While one is obliged to celebrate love everyday, I don’t think having one holiday to celebrate it is ridiculous. For example, we should celebrate our independence everyday, yet we have one holiday. Or (if you are a Christian) the birth and death of Christ should be celebrated everyday, yet we have two separate holidays dedicated to these events. So why then is Valentine's Day ridiculous? I argue two things. The first is that celebrating an emotion is ridiculous. Why not St. Anger's Day (no Metallica pun intended) or Ambition Day? American holidays and holidays in general (secular ones anyway) are supposed to appeal to the entire nation on some level. While this is no longer entirely true, the idea is a commemoration of something on a national or world level. Valentine's Day poses no such relationship. Halloween is arguably in the same category, although in Latin American countries, we find other validation. My second reason, entirely related to the first is that not everyone can appeal to this day and in fact, many despise it altogether. Who despises Memorial Day or the 4th of July? Not everyone can appeal to the same emotions, which is why having a major day dedicated to an emotion is semi-ridiculous.
The second argument circulating is that Valentine's Day is a Hallmark holiday or rather a Holiday just to get sales up on chocolates and cards. Why I agree, how is this holiday different from birthday celebrations, Christmas, Halloween or any other holiday in which cards and food are exchanged? My argument is, every holiday is a Hallmark holiday essentially and its no use using that argument against Valentine's Day just because you are sore about a being alone or whatever. If you are to use the argument, don’t ever celebrate any other holiday in America. Otherwise, you are a hypocrite. Except maybe the Presidents Birthdays, go ahead and celebrate.
Finally, while my goal here is to debunk arguments given by angry, bitter Americans and come up with more rational arguments against Valentine's Day, I cannot help but to appreciate my lover's chocolates and send a rose to mom and sis for a very ridiculous yet very appealing holiday.
-Stephanie M. Dedovitch
Firstly, some argue that Valentine's Day is ridiculous to celebrate since one is obliged to love a significant other or family member EVERY day, not just on Valentine's Day. While I do agree that the Day is semi-ridiculous, I think the first justification is invalid. While one is obliged to celebrate love everyday, I don’t think having one holiday to celebrate it is ridiculous. For example, we should celebrate our independence everyday, yet we have one holiday. Or (if you are a Christian) the birth and death of Christ should be celebrated everyday, yet we have two separate holidays dedicated to these events. So why then is Valentine's Day ridiculous? I argue two things. The first is that celebrating an emotion is ridiculous. Why not St. Anger's Day (no Metallica pun intended) or Ambition Day? American holidays and holidays in general (secular ones anyway) are supposed to appeal to the entire nation on some level. While this is no longer entirely true, the idea is a commemoration of something on a national or world level. Valentine's Day poses no such relationship. Halloween is arguably in the same category, although in Latin American countries, we find other validation. My second reason, entirely related to the first is that not everyone can appeal to this day and in fact, many despise it altogether. Who despises Memorial Day or the 4th of July? Not everyone can appeal to the same emotions, which is why having a major day dedicated to an emotion is semi-ridiculous.
The second argument circulating is that Valentine's Day is a Hallmark holiday or rather a Holiday just to get sales up on chocolates and cards. Why I agree, how is this holiday different from birthday celebrations, Christmas, Halloween or any other holiday in which cards and food are exchanged? My argument is, every holiday is a Hallmark holiday essentially and its no use using that argument against Valentine's Day just because you are sore about a being alone or whatever. If you are to use the argument, don’t ever celebrate any other holiday in America. Otherwise, you are a hypocrite. Except maybe the Presidents Birthdays, go ahead and celebrate.
Finally, while my goal here is to debunk arguments given by angry, bitter Americans and come up with more rational arguments against Valentine's Day, I cannot help but to appreciate my lover's chocolates and send a rose to mom and sis for a very ridiculous yet very appealing holiday.
-Stephanie M. Dedovitch
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