Valentine's Day. I don’t get it. I don’t get how a holiday originally devoted to Roman Christian martyrs has turned into the monstrosity it is today. I don’t get why it has become an obstacle course for significant others. According to a conversation I overheard, the perfect gift is something small and cute but not too commercial or popular, not too expensive, but expensive enough to suggest that the giver cares. It has to have sentimental value, and, most importantly, it has to come from the heart. I mean COME ON, people. I also don’t get why the majority of the single population throws a loud, miserable, self-pitying fit every year. Yes—you’re single, so have fun with it!
Thankfully, it seems that college students are exempt from most of the Valentine's Day hysteria. WE take advantage of the holiday to party. We may not be responsible, but at least we don’t ever buy boxed chocolates or sickeningly cute stuffed puppies, which are nothing but clever capitalist ploys.
So college students DO celebrate Valentine’s Day, but… well… differently than most everyone else. At such a lecherous and promiscuous school such as mine, we have to find new ways to get around the whole “fidelity” aspect of the holiday. We do that by throwing themed parties.
Party number one: It’s only for the seniors. I’m not going to tell you the name, because that would be easily google-able (knowing what school I go to is THAT much closer to obtaining my PIN number). Basically, a good portion of the senior class goes to a pub off-campus, consumes some alcohol, and… well… makes out with everyone they’ve ever wanted to over their years at school. Yep. Basically that simple. I can’t wait for that entire class to get mono over the next couple of days.
Party number two: It’s for the rest of the school. The concept: people (hopefully friends) email a third party, saying that they would like Cady and Aaron (totally not using fake names here) to go to the dance party together. The third party emails Cady and Aaron, telling them that they have requests, but not telling them who their (un?)lucky date is. Cady and Aaron can either accept the invite, accept it with stipulations (i.e. they have to be of a certain gender, they can’t be an ex, etc.), or deny it. If everything goes correctly, Cady and Aaron are emailed with instructions on what time and at what station they are to arrive at the party. They are plastic-handcuffed together (and given the key after 20ish minutes). They dance the night away, and most often go on to get married to each other. OR the upperclassmen randomly send in 2/3 of the freshmen’s names (this happened to me), three of whom accept the request. The dance itself has mediocre music and is full of drunken mischief and broken handcuffs.
So in short, I don’t think any promise rings were exchanged over Valentine’s Day on campus, and only a MINIMAL number of stuffed animals. And I don’t mind.
Ginger’s Song of the Week: I am convinced that Jessie J is the future of pop music. Or at least, I dearly hope so. Tip: for a mind-blowing performance that won’t get her anywhere near the top 40, check out her cover of “Mama Knows Best.”
Anyone else want to go to this plastic handcuff party??
Related posts: all things Valentine's Day!