Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Missing Things on Valentine's Day
I know that it's entirely commercial.
I know that it's ultimately irrelevant.
I know that it is, in all likelihood, the result of a diabolical conspiracy between the Catholic church, greeting card companies, and South American cacao producers.
But for some reason, I still hate the feeling of being by myself on Valentine's Day.
Like the rest of the country, Old Ivy has been glazed with a thin, but persistent, lair of ice rendering any chance of visiting my girlfriend impossible and the walk to my classes surprisingly perilous. So it looks like it'll just be me and a bunch of graduate students talking about Aristotle this evening. (Yes, I actually had to read some Aristotle for my Scientific Revolution class. )
The twist? If I had stayed at Underwood this year then I would get the day off to spend with my Valentine. But they don't close grad school on account of bad weather.
I miss that. And I miss my Valentine.
I know that it's entirely commercial.
I know that it's ultimately irrelevant.
I know that it is, in all likelihood, the result of a diabolical conspiracy between the Catholic church, greeting card companies, and South American cacao producers.
But for some reason, I still hate the feeling of being by myself on Valentine's Day.
Like the rest of the country, Old Ivy has been glazed with a thin, but persistent, lair of ice rendering any chance of visiting my girlfriend impossible and the walk to my classes surprisingly perilous. So it looks like it'll just be me and a bunch of graduate students talking about Aristotle this evening. (Yes, I actually had to read some Aristotle for my Scientific Revolution class. )
The twist? If I had stayed at Underwood this year then I would get the day off to spend with my Valentine. But they don't close grad school on account of bad weather.
I miss that. And I miss my Valentine.
