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one monkey. one keyboard. one journal. we shall see... |
| Once upon a time there was a monkey. Monkey lived in London and had many adventures. |
| I don't like Valentine's Day. Don't get me wrong, I'm happily co-habiting with the monkey of my dreams. I'm not the bitter, twisted single I was 3 years ago, hating anyone who even glanced at another person in a longing way. Like many people, I don't like the Hallmark-commercialism that Valentine's Day propagates. I don't like that it is an excuse for couples to -only- be loving to each other on one day a year. Flowers are for life, not just for V-day. The exclusion of not getting a card on this day of days isn't just a schoolgirl's (or boy's) nightmare, it persists long into adulthood. And the mortification of receiving a gift from an unwanted paramour. There is no way to deal with that kindly. There is always awkwardness and pain. Today is a day for singles to feel unloved and resentful of those people in rosey-red coupledom. It's a day when people in relationships feel compelled to shower each other with overpriced roses, gifts, cards and 'romantic' meals in restaurants who have crammed in extra tables so that amorous exchanges take place with elbow clashing on either side, who have marked up their prices to extortionate rates. And yet the champagne flows, the roses bloom, the chocolates melt in the mouth. Mugs, the lot of them. Tonight, my monkey and me are going to the movies. Not to celebrate the Big V... but because I want to see a film. (I did get monkey a card though. Hypocrisy at work). |
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