How to...

I felt very accomplished this morning. For the first time in a week I woke up before noon (barely) and actually did something with my day. And I did this with the biggest sugar headache I've ever experienced (I'll explain later).

This monumental achievement was further heightened by the fact that I received a good bill of oral health from my dentist. I sauntered through the clinic doors five minutes before my appointment a smile plastered on my face, inwardly cringing and wondering if my dentist would be able to smell the weeks worth of alcohol on my breath.

I was lucky and my smile did the trick. My hygienist led me to the back where I curled up in the chair and heaved a sigh of relief. I started making the best small talk of my life. I figured if I was friendly I could avoid - or at least postpone - the ravaging my gums always take at the dentist.

And again I got lucky. Maybe she could smell the stale remnants of last call on my breath or maybe my happy demeanour did the trick but my hygienist practically massaged the plaque from my teeth. And - now this is the weird part - she complimented my teeth.

Now I'm not a compulsive tooth-brusher and in fact I rarely floss. But somehow I got away with the biggest farce of my life. And everything went well until the fluoride. This ominous word instills fear into every bone of my body. I think the kids have it great nowadays with the foam fluoride but back in the day we had the disgusting viscous tar. It makes me gag just thinking about it. So imagine my concern when I start thinking about those fond memories whilst my stomach churns on the alcohol from the night before.

Not a good combination but I managed to make it through the fluoride...somehow. I think its the uncanny ability I have to control my gag-......

Anyways to keep this G rated, my 'how to...' for today is how to trick your dentist into thinking you are an A+ oral hero (I don't know what was on my mind when I wrote this ;) ). Smile. It goes a long way.

V-Day XOXOX

Ah, love is in the air. It's Valentines Day and the only thing I can think is, "I can get away with eating expensive chocolates, ice cream, watching chick flicks, and drinking away my sorrows and no one will care". Of course, people probably would care, but for us rather "disenchanted" individuals who haven't snagged our rose bearing knights in shining armor....well, we'll just lavish love on ourselves.

This really isn't going anywhere but I assure there is a point. I'm sitting in the airport intending to do computer science (someone remind me why I'm single...) and have nothing better to do then write and people watch. And seeing as how two people have wished me a happy Valentines Day I feel rather inspired to write about this vapid holiday.

When I was riding the bus this morning - vacant expression on my face, lack of sleep bubbling behind my eyes - a man got on carrying a rose. My first thought, being a romantic and all, was, "Awwww, how cute." Then I noticed the puppy dog eyes and defeated expression on the man's face and reevaluated my position. Perhaps he was trying to 'make up' with his significant other. Maybe he got shot down and was on his way (at 9 am) to bury his worries in an expensive box of truffles. Or maybe he was going to the airport to see his partner who was living in Africa providing humanitarian aid and was flying in for Valentines Day and for one night they could share the physical intimacy they were currently denied, what with them being on different continents and all.

Anyone who knows me could probably guess that I settled on the last option. In fact, anyone who knows the people I hang out with will quickly realize that I made up an entire back story about this man with the rose and puppy dog eyes. But back to my original point.

This man didn't feel it adequate to go to the airport (to meet his long-distance lover) without a rose. Now, I don't know if he would have brought a rose if it wasn't Valentines Day but this coincidence does seem a little suspect.

Which brings me to my tirade about the commercialism that is Valentines Day. I black listed Christmas for this trait and Valentines Day is even worse. Lovers everywhere post a united front in their efforts to buy every single rose, box of chocolates, and romantically-sappy card in existence. They buy numerous wasteful items in order to express their love. In my opinion, they should be perfectly capable of expressing their love (every day, not just Valentines day) without expensive gestures.

I know I sound like a cynical forlorn romantic who is just bitter and I mean, I really am. I would kill to have a hunky guy waiting for me at the Calgary airport, puppy dog eyes in place, mischievous smile hidden behind the box of chocolates he's holding for me. Hell, I would kill to have a not so hunky guy waiting for me with a bouquet of wilted daisies. But alas, no such thing will happen. Which brings me to my next point.

While the lovers of the world lavish expensive gifts on each other, us rather disenchanted individuals lavish expensive gifts on ourselves. We buy out all the ice cream, chick flicks, cheap wine, and help buying all the chocolate. We buy numerous wasteful items in bitter jealousy of our coupled up counterparts.

And so, what is Valentines Day?

Its an excuse to put up cheesy pink and red displays in store windows. Its an excuse to charge double for chocolate and roses. Basically, its an excuse to jump start the economy and incite an influx in spending now that Christmas is a mere smudge on our credit card bills.

So why do we do it? Because we love to be loved. We love to have an excuse to act grossly romantic and express our love for once.

But then, why do we ever need an excuse...?