Conceited Jerk's Valentine Wish to his Readership.

Happy Valentine's Day to all my friends, readers, search engine crawlers, and spambots.

Much like life, Valentine's Day is what you make of it.  To a romantic, it's the culmination of a year's worth of love.  To a cynic, it's a meaningless marketing event, making money off of gullible, lovestruck fools and the duty-bound husbands of bridezillas.

To which category do you belong?

I used to belong to the latter.  I admit it.  I saw Valentine's Day as the biggest ripoff ever, sentiment being cynically exploited by the greeting card, florist, and confectioners lobby.  If you truly love someone, why do you need one specific day a year to show it?  Why do you need to spend a ton of money doing it?

Do you know what made me switch?

It was reemphasising those very questions.

Why do you need one specific day?  Why do you need to spend a ton of money?

The fact of the matter is, you don't.  Love comes from the heart, not the wallet, not the store.  Love is eternal, not seasonal, not dictated by the calendar.  Valentine's Day can be a meaningless marketing event, if you make it such.  It can also be something meaningful, if you make it such.

For us romantics, it's an excuse to be sickeningly lovey-dovey and to go all-out.  I'm looking forward to spending time with Jillian tonight, cooking her dinner, working on our wedding invitations, and stressing the foundations of the house.  It's all about spending time with (not money on) the one you love.

So, to all you cynics out there, I say this:

Pull your head out of your ass, and tell someone you love them.
It won't kill you.
(Jealous spouses notwithstanding)


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