is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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Valentine's Day.
One: Something has happened. Sure, the page is a different color. But in addition I turned on the comments system. (This could lead me into a little cul-de-sac of complaining about how this particular diaryland template doesn�t allow me to change the way the link for �comments� reads, so it will always say �0 comments� or �2 comments� but also it might possibly say �1 comments.� And that bugs. But if you go into the coding for the page, there simply isn�t a place where the code for the comments link shows up. It�s like some terrible secret. And then if you add your own version, it just means that there are two, one right after the other, the first one being the lame unchangeable one. Man, diaryland sucks sometimes.)
Two: I don�t hate Valentine�s Day. I think it�s slightly sweet, when it is used well as an occasion to convey kind or loving or sexy thoughts to someone. For years my friend Wendy made beautiful art-object magnets for all her lady friends every year. I myself always try to send cards or other items to the people who love me and whom I love, especially to the ones who are currently single. I mean, the plain fact that greeting card companies make money on a holiday doesn�t of necessity render that day bankrupt.
So. I don�t hate Valentine�s Day but, for various reasons, I�ve rarely had a good Valentine�s Day. There was last year�s comical version, where there�s a knock on the door, and a guy with a bouquet of COOKIES is standing there. Picture me momentarily excited, thinking how perfect it is that someone thought to send me that, COOKIES shaped like FLOWERS in a BOUQUET!, and then the delivery guy says, �these are for your neighbor, can you sign for them?� Ha! Followed by Wah wahhhhh, the sound of cartoon disappointment.
There was also the year when I inadvertently came between my love and his best friend, they fought, and then his best friend was killed in a motorcycle accident a few days later, before they had spoken after their fight. (No soundtrack for that one. Only silence.)
There were other bad years, for me or for good friends of mine (one of whom has actually been dumped on Valentine�s Day, TWICE). And so, during my San Francisco years I always had a party on Valentine�s Day for anyone who wanted to have something to do. I�d make some elaborate cake and set up some silly activity, and we�d have fun, and usually end up at the Lexington Club or something.
There�s no way I could have done that in Amherst. I doubt anyone would have come. (Though the year I was in Amherst my sister sent me the perfect V-day gift: Roxy Music�s Avalon. It�s perfect because when I was in college you knew a guy wanted to make out with you if he put THAT album on. Ha. Except that I have a bunch of things-that-must-be-said about where that album fits in the career of Bryan Ferry that might be tiresome for some guy trying to make out with me. Depending on the guy, of course.) In Amherst I listened to it alone.
Since I left San Francisco, Valentine�s Day has been like most days: me in my apartment with my books and my things, maybe with some V-day cards from my mom, sister, and maybe from some of my GFs. But I don�t really experience the day as a form of mockery of my aloneness, when I�m alone; nor do I expect of it great romantic testimony when I happen to have someone in my life who might have something to say.
So, despite my own testimony yesterday to the darkness and the light of love as we approach the day for lovers (and thanks to all of you who wrote me lovely emails about that entry!), I�ll have you all know that I DO LIKE VALENTINE�S DAY. But I don�t love it.
(For some reason this reminds me of the time, I think it was around Valentine�s Day, when my friend E had angered me over something lame the night before, and was on his way to meet Heidi and I and some other friends for a brunch-meal, but he was very very late, which is a terrible thing to do to Jill-aged-20, given her terrible metabolism-driven angry-outbursts, and her marked impatience in general�Jill-aged-20 was difficult!�and since this guy was late, he decided the best thing he could do was be even more late so he could buy me a red rose. My friend J saw him walking toward us with that rose, did a double-take, and then he (J) yelled, �mother FUCK. she is going to kick your ASS!� Hahaha. Such was my reputation at the time. For some reason lots of people thought flowers and hearts made me angry. They don�t! They never have! The only thing that makes me angry is the transparent attempt to use flowers or candy or anything, really, to stand in for communication, or apology, when it is needed.)
(That, in turn, reminds me of this brilliant analysis of �fight endings� by Anonymous Female Person (who, for the record, is not me) in her Answers to Men's Questions on the h2so4 site: �There are only three basic fight endings: The Thoughtful Gesture, Behavioral Modification, and Talking. Combining the endings in the proper order is of course the tricky part. If the fight is about a behavior ("You never do the dishes") you pretty much have to lead with Behavioral Modification (do the damn dishes already) and follow up with a Thoughtful Gesture (dinner date, cute present). Never try to end a behavior fight with Talking because despite what you think women don't really have to talk everything out. Never try to end an issue fight (Talking) with a solo Thoughtful Gesture because you'll just seem completely insensitive.�)
But for some reason, by which I mean, because I bought an airline ticket all spur-of-the-moment-like in the heat of the most strange confluence of determining factors, I will actually be in SAN FRANCISCO for the evening of Valentine�s Day this year. (Unless the snowstorm approaching leaves me trapped in Philly or, worse, in Chicago as I try to make my way to SF. Wah Waaaaaahhhhh.)
1:11 a.m. - February 13, 2007
Maire - 2007-02-13 22:30:17
I love you and read you all the time. Happy Valentine's Day from NJ!
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Matthew B - 2007-02-13 22:51:52
Jill, I just couldn't leave that "1 comments" up there. See you when you get back to the Main Line!
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