So beautiful, but so vain. Yet so precious.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Some thoughts on V-Day
My highschool use to have this cruel tradition that began at the start of every February. Either the PTA, or the Interact Club, or some other school club would buy a boat-load of carnations and then re-sell them at $1 each. The students buy tickets from these clubs for their friends, admirers, "significant" others... and the flowers get delivered to that person on February 14. The school clubs raise some money for their treasury, and the students get to feel special on Valentine's day. Win-win situation, right? Not exactly.
The whole situation inevitably turned into a popularity contest. The girl (or guy) who was most weighed-down with carnations that day was the envy of everybody else. Naturally every one wanted to be that person, though no one was vain enough to admit it. On the other hand, if you were some poor lad/gal who walked the halls that day with not a single carnation in sight... then you might as well have had a sign on your back that said "Loser."
Of course no one wanted to be that lonely person, myself included. With no boyfriend to coerce into buying me flowers, I took matters into my own hands. To ensure that at least one carnation would arrive, that on V-day I would be associated with some hint of a pink floral petal, and mostly, that I would not be grouped with the "loners" club, I made alliances with my friends. You see, they were also thinking what I was thinking, and so it made perfect sense for us to align our forces. I would buy them a carnation, and in return, I would get a carnation. Why go through the whole hoopla? Why not just buy myself the darn flower and call it a day? Well, because it's just not special if you buy yourself a flower, is it? Then, not only are you "lonely," but you'd also be "desperate," and that's a whole other level of sad.
Admittedly, I was rusty at the beginning of the whole process. I'd have trouble initiating the process, even though I knew my friends were all thinking the same things. But I got better every year, and by senior year, I was walking down the halls with a bouquet of carnations! I exaggerate, but I had enough flowers that it looked obnoxiously cumbersome. Mind you, I was never "that" girl with the flowers that everyone else envied; I was never that popular, and of my five flowers were essentially swapped deals! But... to some unsuspecting, naive freshman, I could have definitely passed as somewhat well-liked among my social group. If nothing else, then I would have not been associated with the "loners."
It's quite funny looking back on the whole carnation situation. That a single flower could have so much social significance is outrageously comical to an adult, but to a high-school kid, that single flower meant all the difference. The whole situation could have been a lot less stressful had I had a romantic somebody, someone who was with me in a way that obligated them to buy me the carnations without any swaps involved. Alas, that was never the case with me.
Even after high-school, and throughout college, I never had a significant other on V-Day. This was never a big issue I had, as most of my friends were also like me: single. We hung out on V-Day just as with any other day, and it was never blatant that we were without roses and chocolates and candlelit dinners. Although I never lamented being single on V-Day, the thoughts did cross my mind once or twice that it would be nice to have someone with whom to celebrate love. Flowers would be lovely, I thought.
Indeed, flowers are lovely.
You would think that after being with someone for two Valentines now, that I require, even demand, the requisite flowers. It is surprising then, even to myself, that I've come to view V-Day a lot differently now then I did back in highschool. Somewhere along the years, I came to the conclusion that V-Day is more a Hallmark holiday. I reasoned that real lovers do not need a day dedicated to celebrate love; truly in love people celebrate love every day. Furthermore, I, being the snob that I am, do not want to celebrate my love along with the rest of the world. After all, how could romance be truly romantic if every other couple were doing the same thing? I do not bash the holiday, as it is always good to have more love going around, even if the greeting card companies are behind it all. Love is so good indeed that it shouldn't be confined to one day out of the year.
It is quite simple. Above everything, above the carnations and roses... above all else, all anyone really ever yearns for is simply to be loved. And loved is what I am.
The whole situation inevitably turned into a popularity contest. The girl (or guy) who was most weighed-down with carnations that day was the envy of everybody else. Naturally every one wanted to be that person, though no one was vain enough to admit it. On the other hand, if you were some poor lad/gal who walked the halls that day with not a single carnation in sight... then you might as well have had a sign on your back that said "Loser."
Of course no one wanted to be that lonely person, myself included. With no boyfriend to coerce into buying me flowers, I took matters into my own hands. To ensure that at least one carnation would arrive, that on V-day I would be associated with some hint of a pink floral petal, and mostly, that I would not be grouped with the "loners" club, I made alliances with my friends. You see, they were also thinking what I was thinking, and so it made perfect sense for us to align our forces. I would buy them a carnation, and in return, I would get a carnation. Why go through the whole hoopla? Why not just buy myself the darn flower and call it a day? Well, because it's just not special if you buy yourself a flower, is it? Then, not only are you "lonely," but you'd also be "desperate," and that's a whole other level of sad.
Admittedly, I was rusty at the beginning of the whole process. I'd have trouble initiating the process, even though I knew my friends were all thinking the same things. But I got better every year, and by senior year, I was walking down the halls with a bouquet of carnations! I exaggerate, but I had enough flowers that it looked obnoxiously cumbersome. Mind you, I was never "that" girl with the flowers that everyone else envied; I was never that popular, and of my five flowers were essentially swapped deals! But... to some unsuspecting, naive freshman, I could have definitely passed as somewhat well-liked among my social group. If nothing else, then I would have not been associated with the "loners."
It's quite funny looking back on the whole carnation situation. That a single flower could have so much social significance is outrageously comical to an adult, but to a high-school kid, that single flower meant all the difference. The whole situation could have been a lot less stressful had I had a romantic somebody, someone who was with me in a way that obligated them to buy me the carnations without any swaps involved. Alas, that was never the case with me.
Even after high-school, and throughout college, I never had a significant other on V-Day. This was never a big issue I had, as most of my friends were also like me: single. We hung out on V-Day just as with any other day, and it was never blatant that we were without roses and chocolates and candlelit dinners. Although I never lamented being single on V-Day, the thoughts did cross my mind once or twice that it would be nice to have someone with whom to celebrate love. Flowers would be lovely, I thought.
Indeed, flowers are lovely.
You would think that after being with someone for two Valentines now, that I require, even demand, the requisite flowers. It is surprising then, even to myself, that I've come to view V-Day a lot differently now then I did back in highschool. Somewhere along the years, I came to the conclusion that V-Day is more a Hallmark holiday. I reasoned that real lovers do not need a day dedicated to celebrate love; truly in love people celebrate love every day. Furthermore, I, being the snob that I am, do not want to celebrate my love along with the rest of the world. After all, how could romance be truly romantic if every other couple were doing the same thing? I do not bash the holiday, as it is always good to have more love going around, even if the greeting card companies are behind it all. Love is so good indeed that it shouldn't be confined to one day out of the year.
It is quite simple. Above everything, above the carnations and roses... above all else, all anyone really ever yearns for is simply to be loved. And loved is what I am.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
The hardest challenge....
One of the most difficult challenges is getting up after a nasty fall, figuratively speaking of course. How do you muster the strength to get up, dust yourself off, and stand tall again after being knocked down so brutally? Up until this change, I believed I was invincible; I could walk on water if I really tried....
As hard as it may be, we always get back up. We must. There is no alternative. We must get back up. It takes time, to slowly erode away the memory of the crushing pain. It takes introspection, lots of introspection, to figure out why it happened, and what can be done about it. It takes outside support, because we all need someone to lean on sometimes, as cheesy as that may sound. Looking back, I am incredibly grateful for all the unwavering support from the people in my life.
So, to stand up again is a monumental effort in its own right. Yet, to climb back up on the proverbial horse is like facing Everest. I exaggerate, but it's not too far from the truth in my humblest opinion. To put yourself out there again, giving everything you have, can make a person feel so vulnerable, so bare and exposed.
Melodramatics aside, the bottom line is simple: Falls are inevitable; giving it another try is not optional.
*** "You're really the only shadow standing in your own sunshine." - Fabio from Top Chef. ***
As hard as it may be, we always get back up. We must. There is no alternative. We must get back up. It takes time, to slowly erode away the memory of the crushing pain. It takes introspection, lots of introspection, to figure out why it happened, and what can be done about it. It takes outside support, because we all need someone to lean on sometimes, as cheesy as that may sound. Looking back, I am incredibly grateful for all the unwavering support from the people in my life.
So, to stand up again is a monumental effort in its own right. Yet, to climb back up on the proverbial horse is like facing Everest. I exaggerate, but it's not too far from the truth in my humblest opinion. To put yourself out there again, giving everything you have, can make a person feel so vulnerable, so bare and exposed.
Melodramatics aside, the bottom line is simple: Falls are inevitable; giving it another try is not optional.
*** "You're really the only shadow standing in your own sunshine." - Fabio from Top Chef. ***
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