It's neither a solstice nor an equinox, we're not celebrating the birth or death of anyone interesting, and it's a Monday, fer crying out loud. I'm chatting with a friend of mine who mentions that she's wearing a red blouse today and that she really hates said blouse. Red is not her color. Why is she wearing it? Because it's Valentine's Day! Further, having heard tales of her husband, she will most likely have some expectation that he'll do something for her and then be crushed when he doesn't. Again. Why, I ask myself? The only thing I've come up with so far is this:

Deep down, she's expecting a call from the Hallmark Profit Enforcement Goons if she doesn't get in the spirit. At approximately 7pm (during dinner, of course), burly men will knock at her door. She'll (hesitantly) open it just a hair and one of the men will slam the door wide open. While the more ape-like of the two hulks in the background cracking his knuckles, the greasy one will size up my trembling friend and say, "Vinnie sez you gotsta buy a card. We also hears that youse husband didn't buy chocolate and flowers or one of those cute bears what we gots at the store. Vinne wants a word wit him, too." Whereupon they will be forced to take a "little ride" to the nearest Hallmark store and forced to empty their wallets.

I've been married for quite a while now, and while I may get in a snit were he to forget my birthday (which hasn't happened and he's really good and finding super-neat presents), I just *don't* get the point of Valentine's Day. If I hadn't clued in that he loves me by now, what good is a card going to do?

And oh, Happy Valentine's Day. :p