By Mary MoneOnline Editor In the words of Marilyn Monroe, “If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you don’t
One of the top issues in the Presidential Election of 2016 will be gay marriage and gay rights. Though it was an issue in the 2012 election, it is expected that not only Democrats will be supporting gay marriage, but Republicans may as well.
This movement has many all across the United States standing up and supporting gay marriage including Republican Ohio Senator Rob Portman, who just recently endorsed same sex marriage. Portman was considered a top potential running mate for Mitt Romney in last year’s election, and his reason for supporting gay marriage is his son, who is gay.
Oh joy and rapture: the most unnecessary and unhealthy day of overcompensation to ever go commercial rears its ugly head once again. It is a holiday that forces you to slap on a smile and shell out major dough for the one you “adore” or gives you a reason to get trashed in celebration of your liberation, both of which ensure disaster. I see no use for it—Valentine’s Day sucks. Major.
I never can understand the allure of the obligation to love someone so deeply in the middle of February. It’s the midst of winter, you’re more than likely pasty white-skinned, and probably still fat from the holidays. How incredibly attractive!
So what’s worse than stale Christmas music? Fresh lovey-dovey Valentine’s Day songs. I steer clear of the radio for fear of regurgitation.
Does anyone actually know who this diapered angel baby is we worship once day a year? According to Roman mythology, Cupid is a certified pervert—look it up.
I guess the only redeeming part about the whole thing is that the only time you really have to worry about being single is the day after Valentine’s when candy is all half off—that is the time to fear.
I guess my bitterness for Valentine’s Day began as a child when everyone brought his or her own little cards and candies to share in elementary school. I would spend countless hours perfecting my “mailbox” that would house all of my goodies, but guess who NEVER FAILED to start the newest string of strep throat the night before the big day? I can recall only attending two school parties because of my curse.
It’s not that I’m harboring some irrational vendetta against the holiday, unless you consider bouts of searing throat pain, high fever, and body aches a reason to hate all things pink and red together—then yes, guilty.
The only entertaining memory I have of the holiday as a child was making valentines in class for prisoners (which my eight-year-old psyche was never fully comfortable with at all.) That, and the time I went to China Buffet with my grandparents are all I got.