I really dislike flowers. I don’t like the smell, is the big problem. I don’t like it coming from the flowers themselves or from perfumes or air fresheners. I bought a lavender macaron last month and it tasted like eating my grandmother’s underwear drawer.
As much as I love pumping my body with sugar, I could not make it through that shit.
Some flowers are pretty. But fuck are they not pretty enough to justify the whole industry based around them. So useless. I can’t remember which comedian it was who noted the stupidity of giving people flowers, the whole ‘Here, watch this die’-ness of it.
I rarely have to tell people about this, because I’m not dead enough for people to be showering me with them. I don’t think I give off the impression that floral arrangements are something I find value in, even when I haven’t verbalised it.
So, not receiving flowers today was no great blow. Not receiving chocolates is a bit sadder, but more on the this-is-part-of-why-I-have-no-chocolate front… even then I prefer to choose my own cocoa products. Had I receiver of such a typical gift I might have still been angry… there are 365 days in a year, and it’s a bit nicer to be made feel special on a day which doesn’t lend itself to expectation and disappointment. I feel the same about birthdays and Christmas. Not because I don’t love birthday and Christmas presents, but because in my mind, every new dawn should be a new opportunity to give me things.
Seriously, though, I feel pretty freaking honoured and humbled when friends give me the tiniest things with no such provocation. I don’t think of it as materialistic. I’m dreadful at verbally or physically expressing my thanks, and when I can afford it try to signify to people that their existence is worthwhile with consumer goods… it works both ways. One of those ways is probably capitalism.
OH, that was off the beaten track. I wasn’t really thinking about Valentine’s Day today. I went into university at midday for a meeting of Student’s Council, to discover the meeting was at 2:00pm. Come that time, we failed to reach quorum, so no Student’s Council at all. Between 12 and 2, and 2:30 and 4, I killed time in a library which wards off study. I read back-issues of Farrago and learned an awful lot about the introduction of the Melbourne Model, then borrowed The Room.
Sexy day, amirite?
I then ventured to Misty’s Diner in Prahran, to catch up with a friend over deep fried oreos, curly fries and a Reese’s Pieces thickshake. Misty sprinked our table with love hearts. We were both carrying non-fiction gender studies-ish books around with us, livin’ the cliche.
I would not call my day dissatisfying, but then, that really is testament to just how much I dislike flowers and enjoy feisty student debates.