Disclaimer: the opinions expressed in this post do not reflect Bwog’s official views on Valentine’s Day. These opinions belong solely to Daily Editor Youngweon Lee.
You saw the title. I hate Valentine’s Day. I hate the gaudy red and pink color scheme that’s all up in your face as a constant reminder that it is indeed the 14th day of the second month of the year. I hate the narrative that you need to have a significant other to enjoy Valentine’s Day, and that your day is immediately shot if you’re single, so you might as well go to Mel’s and play some beer pong on a Tuesday night. I hate the diabetic commercialization of the idea of love and its manifestation as a mass overload of chocolate and roses. Why is this a thing?
I hate that Ferris had STRAWBERRY GLAZED chicken breasts for Valentine’s Day dinner. Who does that? I didn’t eat it so I can’t tell you how good or bad it was, but it looked pretty dry. They also had a lot of prosciutto on the menu – because it’s pink? – and ran out of everything prosciutto when I got there. All I wanted was some prosciutto arugula salad, or prosciutto pizza. Can’t a girl dream?
I also hate that for the last week or two, there were at least three tables at any given time on the Lerner ramps selling some sort of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia. I think I’ve seen the Wind Ensemble grams, wooden roses, potato grams, condom grams, and various cupcake sales, just to name a few. I just want to be able to take my bowl of pesto-and-alfredo-with-parmasan-cheese pasta from Ferris to the piano lounge without five different people yelling at me to buy various products objectifying and commercializing love for some arbitrary “holiday.” Now, being South Korean, I’m an eager capitalist, but this is honestly outrageously over-the-top. (But I do have to admit, the potato grams were kinda funny. I almost bought one. For myself.)
And can we go back to that rhetoric that you can’t be single and happy for a moment? The Valentine’s Day dichotomy that can be seen is, on the one hand, people celebrating their significant others (“I love you, Pumpkin! I love you too, Honey Bunny!”), and on the other, people bemoaning their lack of a significant other on this very special day meant for celebrating love (or something). I’m very single and very happy, thank you very much. I don’t need a Valentine. And no, I will not “be my own Valentine” because that still further validates this inane, unnecessary “holiday.” I realize this article sounded rather bitter, but I promise I’m not bitter, just annoyed. But now that Valentine’s Day is over, I can go back to my normal routine of heartless aromanticism. Till next year, stupid little hearts!
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