Valentine's Day, Bah Humbug ...or....

The month of Love seems all but that to this February Scrooge. I become a person foreign to my very soul. A Cupid Grinch. It would suffice me just fine if cupid remained a concrete frieze smiling down at tourists' from cold stone buildings.

Those who know me know that I have a love/hate relationship with the month. At least the first half of it. I wish Valentine's Day could have stayed as simple as my grade school doily and red construction paper bag filled with Neeco's candy conversation hearts and hand scrawled valentines.
Hmmm, maybe the day bred expectations even then. Did you ever dump that white bag of cards onto your desk scrambling to find one from that special guy/gal to see if he/she sent a coded special message?
The more commercial Valentine’s Day becomes— the more demanding, the more predictable — the less it feels like love. As soon as a Valentine commercial or radio ad starts, I am scrambling for the mute button or volume knob.

I am aggravated that something so trivial can aggravate me so. I vow annually to resolve this issue before February comes around the next year, but—here we are again.
Earth itself seemed to agree with me this year, withholding her care like an angry woman who had been robbed of her 3 foot Valentine card.  The earth shook, it froze and — Thank God, it thawed. So was the first half of February 2014 in Charleston, SC

I woke up on February 15th like it was the first day of the month. A new moon of sorts. My arms stretched to the sky when I rose. Sipping coffee and thinking of blessings — I silently expressed gratefulness that I wouldn't need to turn the channel, mute the volume or avoid the dedicated aisles of the stores.

All is well, all the people that I love know that I love them still. And —the proof isn't a half eaten box of chocolate or a box of edible undies that will end up in a garage sale or forgotten and hidden in a dresser drawer to mortify a child years later when they sort through our tokens of this earth at our demise.
And then a few hours later, I got the last laugh. I walked into Harris Teeter and there are five full...yes five overstuffed buggies of 75% off flowers. Day old Valentines flowers! Nirvana!!
The skies opened, I think I heard music and — the answer came to me! The answer to that elusive annoying ass problem, what to do with myself for Valentines day for the rest of my life.

Flip the table! Anonymously surprise those people who weren't expecting the Vermont Teddy Bear, the 50 piece chocolate box or box from Jared. When I started thinking of who may be on that list...it grew and grew and so did my heart. (Imagine Valentine Scrooge here, feeling her heart beat.)
Next year, I will fill my doily & red construction paper Valentine bag with cards for:

The person who quietly offers a lifetime of un-reciprocated love to another.
The pessimist. (A card AND a box of good and plenty)
The person cloaking a hurting heart
The widow/widower
The  father who misses the game because he is working overtime to give his kid that shoe with a stripe.
The mother who feigns she isn't hungry so that there is enough food to go around.
The scared one.
The selfless person who avoids pettiness and greed as dirty bath water.
The one who hold secrets to their chest that would cause pain to others.
The angry ones, they walk the streets with placid smiles, like walking dead.

Maybe— just maybe, the fourteen days before Valentines Day won't be enough time for me to celebrate!
Happy Belated Valentine everyone!!  But to those special ones above— May the god who knows and sees all injustices, fill your planter with a bird dropped wildflower seed, offer up a rainbow from a minuscule drop of water or fill up 5 grocery carts with clearance day old flowers and chocolates!

Day Old Valentines | Charlestongrit.com | Bold. Smart. Local. Now. | Charleston, SC

Day Old Valentines | Charlestongrit.com | Bold. Smart. Local. Now. | Charleston, SC

Am I Smarter Than A Fifth Grader or Dumber Than A Bag of Rocks | Charlestongrit.com | Bold. Smart. Local. Now. | Charleston, SC

Am I Smarter Than A Fifth Grader or Dumber Than A Bag of Rocks | Charlestongrit.com | Bold. Smart. Local. Now. | Charleston, SC

Am I Smarter Than a Fifth Grader or Dumber Than a Bag Of Rocks?

Which Disney Character are you?  What epic Rock Starlet are you? Are you smarter than a fifth grader? Are you dumber than a bag of rocks?
I do those crazy little quizzes that pass around occasionally, but I don't give them much precedence.
What's your brain age? I do believe in challenging the brain. But Scrabble, Dictionaries and DMV re-licensing questions are sufficient for me.
 What's your thumbprint on earth? Actually, I have two of them and I don't think that can be changed by asking me ten questions. But —I recycle wine corks, try not to use a lot of plastic and don't buy paper towels.
Astrology, How is your day going to be?  Several if not half of the 12 zodiac signs can describe just about anyone.— so nix the horoscope.  Although I do believe the alignment of the sun, moon and constellations has earthly, heavenly and therapeutical consequences.
Recently I peeled out the tablet on some down time and took a lengthy in-depth survey with some cool psyche questions. At the end of the survey their determination was — You don't feel pressured to live up to society's expectations of what is "perfect", which is healthy - however, you may want to consider whether your rejection of societal standards might be jeopardizing your chances for success out of a desire to be a nonconformist.
With the exception of jeopardizing my chance for success, this may have been the closest personal description that I have seen from a quiz.  I don't do anything for success, all endeavors are for either survival, love, a future life or the pure joy of it.  But — the hint of truth in the quiz that nailed me as a non-conformist was the snare that had me questioning (briefly) whether I was laying land mines in my own path of achievement.
After that brief review I determined that the close but no cigar assessment considered literary or monetary achievement as success.
You may ask "Well don't you want to be a writer?"  I am a writer.
"Well don't you want to be published?  I am published, I did it myself.
"Well don't you want checks?"  Of course, but I would continue to write if I never got a dime.
So, does one quiz fit all? Not at all. Neither individuality or improvising are factored into these test and quizzes because someone has already predetermined what is normal.
When we moved back here from NC, I took an online personality test for a job. 125 questions! Many of the questions were repetitive with a small change in the format that  (I perceived) as skewing the situation. I adjusted my answers accordingly.  I laughed out loud when I received the denial e-mail from the company.  I was permanently blocked from testing at their site and 4 other subsidiary companies!
This is the way you should be, this is the way you are. Here is what to do to get there. Ya da, ya da, ya da. Ambidextrous, Mild-ish dyslexia and undiagnosed, un-medicated but surely present ADD (my desire to do many things at one time) can make interesting quiz and test results. Consistently inconsistent, I have at least 3 signatures and was once refused a package at the post office that required a signature match with my driver's license. I have also been asked to leave the drive through at the bank to come in and verify my identity. Not to mention being asked to leave (kicked out) a beginners aerobic class, I kept going left when everyone went right.
I may flub the quizzes and test and criteria that one may quantify success with, but there are advantages to knowing thyself. For one, I disagree with the philosophy that we need to start at the bottom and work our way up. If you have the ability to do the work at the top, start there. And lastly dessert can come first.
Protocol, structure and procedure are important to maintain civil and self obedience, obviously.  But, they aren't steadfast rules or recipes for success. For instance, Don will tell you that I am a darn good cook, but it certainly isn't because I follow recipes. I improvise because I am out of something, add something or tweak it to our liking. Does it always work?  No. But circumstances can also change a tried and true recipe, making it fail.
So, I'll flip across the horoscope page, laugh at the silly test's that claim to determine my self-worth or whether I am most like Cinderella or Shrek. If I make it, it will be determined by my creator or it will be because I just didn't know that I couldn't.