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Bring Back Saint Nick, the Patron Saint of Shoppers Everywhere

I was rifling through my desk today, as I almost always do, and happened upon an advertisement for the Hill Country Flyer (which is rather cool). Hidden in the neatly tucked column labeled “Schedule and Fares” was a listing for February 14th. The Sweetheart Special, a special train ride to honor all those poor romantic saps celebrating St. Valentine’s Day, departs from Cedar Park at 8 pm. sharp on the fourteenth of February.

So, I started thinking, as I almost always do but never should, about how I don’t really have a sweetheart. (Please no jokes about smoke coming out of my ears, you and I both know it would never get past my hair.) I don’t have a sweetheart, haven’t had one in a while, don’t really remember the last true sweetheart that was, etc. etc. I guess you could say that I’m really not a sweetheart kind of girl. I don’t know why. It’s just not me. Once again, I suppose you could say it’s not my nature.

I’m not one of those “lovey dovey” kind of people who feels I have to sit in a man’s lap at the movies. I’m content throwing popcorn at him, laughing at the funny parts, and maybe stealing a quick glance or two during the boring parts. I don’t now, nor have I ever, felt the need to be attached at the hip. I guess you could say I, like a lot of voters in NH, am an independent of sorts.

Oh don’t get me wrong. I think romance is fantastic. I think it’s one of life’s little pleasures that should be savored, even longer than my morning coffee. I think it’s great that some couples feel close and feel the need to snuggle at every given instant. It’s just not me. I’ve always been the sort of girl that would be happy with a wedding registry at Home Depot. In fact, I didn’t even know wedding registries existed until rather recently. On the whole, I would much rather elope.

Which gets me back to the topic at hand. As much as I hate the overexposure and commercialization of Christmas (and you know I do) I despise even more Valentine’s Day. It’s a contrived day made up by greeting card companies, which exists solely for the purpose of making me feel inadequate. Yes, it’s true. I have some sort of a complex about this. I imagine all of my X’s lining up to execute me or something. I don’t know what it is, the entire concept of Valentine’s Day makes me feel, at best, lonely and, at worst, rather paranoid and quite wishing it were all over. Yeah, yeah, I know what they say, “if wishes were horses” and all. But still, the entire concept, the mere thought of Valentine’s Day…at this point even the sight of the color “red” has me wishing it were Christmas all over again.

Never thought I’d ever say these words but, on the whole, I’d rather go to the mall. Ugh! But, I suppose I don’t have to worry. I mean, who in their right mind would send me roses, right? And you know I already eat way too much chocolate, that I don’t need any help.

(Yeah, yeah, ok, maybe if the roses were black or if I could somehow use them in a photo spread or something. I know, I know. Don’t go there already, please.)

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in “Carol’s Little World” signing off.


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