Earlier this evening, Duchess documented the conversation as she hung out with Uffish and me. Every time she published, we became wittier (i.e., I screamed at the computer more and Uffish attempted to console me with Duchess egging us both on). The grand finale occurred after Duchess had published for the last time, so I get the privilege of reporting it.
Ahem.
Uffish: So now "Valentine's Day poem" is code for "Merciful heavens, that sucks!"
And with that excellent segue, I would like to remind everyone of the two major poetry readings coming up. The first is a week from Friday at my house. The second is the annual Poetaster Valentines Day reading. Not sure what day--probably right before the day of love commences.
I'm trying to decide how I feel about Valentine's Day. For the longest time, I had this idea in my head that there were a few special days of the year: Valentine's Day, New Year's Eve, my birthday, and Columbus Day. (Just kidding about my birthday.) And then I met this little man named reality. We first ran into each other when my boyfriend informed me that he had a blind date. On New Year's Eve. Then we bumped into each other--not at Macey's, as you'd expect, but actually over the phone--when my second boyfriend broke up with me two days before Valentine's Day. Since then I've lived those two days like every other day.
But I'm still holding out for Columbus Day.
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5 comments:
Hopeful for Columbus Day. (Although some people debate whether or not Columbus was a real person...)
Uffish needs to read the Valentine's day poem she wrote last year. She must. Must must must. It's hilarious.
Friday, the one before Valentines. Tell your friends and family.
On a suddenly-realized, related note, "Valentine" must come from the Latin base word "valere" which means "to be well."
Valentine-shmalentine--this is Lupercalia season, the original pagan festival. A group of men would go out hunting a pack of wolves, nab a few, then come home and beat their women with the bloody pelts in a gristly fertility ritual.
All that sugar-laden saint stuff came much later.
In which case a significant other is not really an asset for this particular holiday.
No, just a bloody wolf pelt.
I've always liked Valentine's, for undisclosable reasons.
However, I've never managed to have an SO on Valentines. Sort-of-Boyfriend #1 quasi-dumped me after Christmas. Boyfriend #2, well, we didn't last past Thanksgiving. Almost-Boyfriend #3--things were so short-lived that it doesn't seem fair to even say that I broke them off. But I did, and I did it as Valentine's was getting uncomfortably close, figuring better to get it over with beforehand than to feel like the world's biggest jerk afterwards.
This is in no way relevant, but we should do fondue soon. I'm having massive chocolate cravings.
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