Sick Season vs Valentines Day

 I’ve decided that the Sick Season is much like Valentines Day. We all know that Hallmark created Valentines Day to sell more cheesy cards and artery clogging chocolate even though we are theoretically supposed to celebrate our significant others and loved ones throughout the entire year. But they’ve got us suckered into buying all of this aforementioned crap because they have really good marketing strategists and hello, someone is going to buy me some chocolate. And maybe even a cookie. You cannot go wrong with this scenario.

The Sick Season, however, has no cookies or chocolates or even flowers that die within the week. What they have are twelve dollar boxes of Sudafed and long lines at the pharmacy where you have to prove that you’re not going home to cook meth by showing the window worker your full set of non-meth-damaged teeth and signing a technologically advanced slip of paper. All of this leads me to my final conclusion that the Sick Season was created by a bunch of sadistic pharmaceutical reps who needed to bump their monthly numbers and started spreading these nasty lies about a ‘Season’ and ‘being prepared’ when really we should just be prepared for angry germies to attack our sinus cavities at any given moment.

I’m really not so sure now how this relates to Valentines Day but I’m just going to blame my incoherency on the prescription-strength pills that came in a really pretty orange container. Pretty because it had the words ‘codeine’ and ‘Carole’ within bare centimeters of each other.

The blatant irony and hypocrisy of this day isn't lost on me.  Its original conception was a day intended to honor Christian martyrs.  First established in almost 500 AD, the day was associated with romantic love in the spirit of Geoffrey Chaucer when the tradition of courtly love, not one night stands or "friends with benefits", flourished.  Lovers expressed their feelings with flowers and greeting cards that were known as "Valentines".

It is most fitting that on this day, a day intended to showcase love and courting and beauty, that it would be united forever with a massacre.  The conflict was between two powerful crime families in Chicago in 1929: The South Side Italian gang led by Al Capone versus the North Side Irish gang led by Bugs Moran.  Sub-machine guns and automatic rifles were open fire.  Victims were sprayed left and right, shots continuing to fire even after people fell to the ground.  People were ripped apart and obliterated in the bloody massacre.  

Valentines Day: a day which conjures feelings of pain and utter devastation.  Perfectly fitting!   Bitches.  :)

For any of my soul sisters who have been glaring and seething at the flowers and Hallmark cards on display these last few days, here is a great little diddy that my friend sent me a few years ago that makes me laugh.   Ladies who share my pain, this one is for you:

The arrow Cupid shot at me must not have hit,
Because I think love is a big crock of shit!

This day needs to get the hell over with and pass,
Before I shove a dozen roses up Cupid's ass!
So here is my story, what else can I say?
Love bites my ass... F*ck Valentine's Day! 

Speaking of blaming things on drugs, I’m going to go ahead and incite that clause for this morning’s Bust Ass in the parking lot. I’m told it was a very graceful Bust Ass, one where I gently swept my arms above my head in slow motion as my foot attacked the perfectly flat asphalt, turning at an impossible angle before I landed on my hands, one knee, an ankle and a hip. I’m going to let you picture how all those body parts ended up touching the ground at the same time and then I’m going to tell you how I’ve never lost a Twister game yet. Unfortunately this was not a Twister game or even a test of my wicked bendy skills. 

My clutziness is something to behold.

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