It's Valentines Day

I've been instructed specifically not to blog about the origins of Valentines Day by my other half. There will be no rant about how Valentines Day is a "hallmark holiday" or how it really caters to women, and in a way sort of forces men to do something for their women today. There will be no mention of the executions of two men named Valentine, both on February 14th of different years. Nor will I delve into their canonizations.

Nope. Not gonna do it. And not just because the wife said so. Truth is, it's kind of depressing to think about all that on a day that's supposed to be happy (and hopefully stress-free).

A lot of people buy things on Valentine's Day, and you have to wonder why? Not "why do they do it" why, why why this day? Do flowers and a card mean more today than some other day? Is Valentine's really a holiday that caters to women and only to them? Is Valentine's a day for a guy to behave so he gets rewarded by his lady (or man)? I don't really think so.

Speaking of which, here is mine. I hope she doesn't get too upset with me over this. ; )

How can one not love this girl?

I don't think that Valentine's, at it's core, meant to become what it is today. I think we made it that way.

No one says you have to give someone a Hallmark card. No one said you have to give anyone flowers, or massages, or anything else. Who says today requires a romantic dinner? What makes it special today? To me, I think it is less special.

The best part about romantic dinners is that they are usually a surprise. They are special because, for all you know, you are the only two people doing it at that very moment. Chances are you are not, but you can believe it to be so.

But on Valentine's Day? Being special, being different is what I think makes a day memorable. You can (and should) shower your significant other with love, gifts, and the like every day of the year. On Valentine's Day, do something different. Make them something by hand, for example. I know no woman who doesn't appreciate something made by hand. And I'm going to assume that guys would feel the same way. I know I do.



Making your own valentine is certainly a start. This couple has been using the same valentine for seventy years. It doesn't have to be anything too fancy. If you are not artistic or crafty, it won't matter. It really is the effort and out put that matter, not the artistic sensibilities behind it. Though, if your other half is an art critic, I cannot guarantee this previous statement.

Maybe that is too simple, or you've been doing that and you want to impress your love with something new, something different. You might try a new, unique craft. Quilling (or paper filigree) is one of those lost crafts that people just don't see much of anymore. It's incredibly inexpensive, all you need is some paper, a quilling tool, and some glue. It costs maybe ten dollars to get started. You could make something like this:



You could go with a different craft, too. Maybe you are clumsy with your fingers, or you have large hands, or can't focus on the small minutiae of quilling. Try making a book. There are all kinds of ways to make, and further customize, a book. It could be a recipe book, a note book, or a book for him or her to write you letters. We personally have this one, and I like it. It's simple and not too overwhelming if you are starting out. Even better is that some books require nothing more than paper, while others do require a few more tools. I assure you though, they're not expensive.

I think an important part of Valentine's Day though, arguably the most important in fact, is every single other day of the year. No amount of neglect can be made up for in one day of flowers and chocolate. No Hallmark card is going to make up for you being a bastard for the rest of the year. It doesn't take much to go a long way. Make them breakfast (Pancakes are yummy). Leave them notes at random, maybe daily before they leave for work. Surprise them every once in awhile. Tell them you're going to go out for dinner, and leave work early to prepare a meal at home instead.

This is not that difficult.

Really, if you're going to be spending the rest of your life with someone, it is in your best interest (and theirs) to treat every day like Valentine's Day.

You'll only have yourself to thank for it.

The Unnecessarily Difficult Process Of Opting Out Of Junk Mail

I've gotten six calls in the last 24 hours from the same number. Apparently, it's about an auto loan. I don't need an auto loan, I already have one; it came with the car. In fact, my loan is pretty good, I think, at less than 4%. I also get offers in the mail for auto loans, and part of my statement has a giant ad for auto loans.

Needless to say, I was not going to stand for this. Ordinarily, I really don't like phones. I feel silly talking into an inanimate object. Also, I don't like the uncertainty that phone conversations offer. In person conversations are infinitely better. Or online, because for some reason, I don't mind that so much.

Normally, I would not have called to cancel this type of nonsense because of this whole me versus the phone thing, but I noticed that the number I can call did not include talking to a human. I like that. When I received my credit card, it required me calling and talking to someone. I really did not like this. In fact, I almost didn't do it, and went without the card. It turns out, the helpful woman on the other line was a very pleasant Chinese woman whose name I did not catch because I could not decipher a damn thing she said. As a matter of fact, she repeatedly referred to me as Miss Dennis. Over and over again. Actually, Miss Dennis is about the only thing I understood in the whole conversation. Anytime I was asked a question I would just say no. Well, the first time, I actually said I couldn't understand her, and it sounded like she enrolled me in something, so after that I said no to everything.

Fun Fact: I just received another phone call from that very same number I mentioned earlier. Only this time, the country code was included.

Anyway, I phoned the number to opt out of any and all information sharing from my credit card company; I really don't require them to share anything. Not having to talk to a person was only a bonus. However, it was one of those "Say yes" type deals, which are a beast all their own. Anyway, I called them up, and upon getting to the opting out part, the voice machine seemed very chipper, although he was a bit long-winded. I guess that's what happens when you employ robots.

Upon finally finishing his spiel, the voice machine on the other end of the line asked me to say "next" to stay as-is or say "opt out" to, well, opt out. So I muttered "Opt Out". Apparently, he did not hear me, because he repeated himself. Oh, brother. The second time, however, he must have gotten the message, because his response was an unequivocal, and heart-breaking sounding Okay. Seriously, the recording sounded pretty disappointed in me, and sad to lose another person who doesn't want their info shared, but I kept on. I wasn't about to let a mere machine make me feel bad. I then opted out of everything, with much excitement!

Then, they needed to verify my answers, you know, in case I changed my mind. Maybe they were hoping the machine would get to me. "Oh, no, maybe I should let them share my info! Bollocks!" So they read the same information over again, about sharing information and that if I changed my mind to say "Next" then, nothing. No way to verify, just "hey, want to share your information, yeah?" Long pause. Very long in fact, probably ten seconds, which in phone time may as well be a decade. This continued for each of the five categories.

But I triumphed.