So, I've been crazy busy, kids: Rehearsals, traveling, working, arting, performing, sleeping and such. My apologies for leaving y'all in the dark for so long. Even with my hectic schedule, I did not forget about my Holiday series; I just could not think of a good day to celebrate within the month of February.
"But, Acey", you say, "What about Valentine's Day?" And to that I say, "It's Saint Valentine's Day".
I'm not catholic. Nor do I want to partake in the capitalist circle-jerk it has become. It's a holiday that deliberately preys on the emotions of women and places unnecessary pressure on men; either someone isn't loved or someone doesn't love enough.
"Okay," you say, "What about Mardi Gras?" Once again, I am not catholic, and secondly, Fat Tuesday doesn't always fall in February. I'm not one to throw away a good time-- just go back and check my sentiments towards Twelfth Night. I just don't get that into Mardi Gras. Perhaps it's my protestant upbringing in the Midwest. Or the Girls Gone Wild for cheap beadery images from mid-nineties New Orleans embedded in my head during said upbringing. Or that I frequent boozy costume parties on the regular and don't need to go balls-to-the-wall debauching hard enough to earn a 46 day hangover.
"So," you ask, " is February completely useless?"
"It has whored its self out entirely to the strong-handed pimp of commercialism. Even the day commemorating the late, great President Abraham Lincoln, also known as President's Day gets worked over by the furniture and mattress warehouses. So yes, February is a festive vacuum. That is, except every four years". I'm talking about once-every-four-years, mothatruckin' Leap Day, kiddos.
Leap Day, is basically the bee's knees. Why? Because ladies win. Tradition deems it socially acceptable that a women may propose to a man on the 29th of February. Also, if said man denies proposal, he must either: a) give her money, b) buy her a new dress, or c) buy her 12 pairs of gloves to cover her unbetrothed hands. So women make out monetarily or with their new beau. And as a lady, that sounds pretty good to me.
I'll definitely try to keep up the page better. Promise. But for now, I've got some menfolk to propose to. Besos.
"But, Acey", you say, "What about Valentine's Day?" And to that I say, "It's Saint Valentine's Day".
I'm not catholic. Nor do I want to partake in the capitalist circle-jerk it has become. It's a holiday that deliberately preys on the emotions of women and places unnecessary pressure on men; either someone isn't loved or someone doesn't love enough.
"Okay," you say, "What about Mardi Gras?" Once again, I am not catholic, and secondly, Fat Tuesday doesn't always fall in February. I'm not one to throw away a good time-- just go back and check my sentiments towards Twelfth Night. I just don't get that into Mardi Gras. Perhaps it's my protestant upbringing in the Midwest. Or the Girls Gone Wild for cheap beadery images from mid-nineties New Orleans embedded in my head during said upbringing. Or that I frequent boozy costume parties on the regular and don't need to go balls-to-the-wall debauching hard enough to earn a 46 day hangover.
"So," you ask, " is February completely useless?"
"It has whored its self out entirely to the strong-handed pimp of commercialism. Even the day commemorating the late, great President Abraham Lincoln, also known as President's Day gets worked over by the furniture and mattress warehouses. So yes, February is a festive vacuum. That is, except every four years". I'm talking about once-every-four-years, mothatruckin' Leap Day, kiddos.
Leap Day, is basically the bee's knees. Why? Because ladies win. Tradition deems it socially acceptable that a women may propose to a man on the 29th of February. Also, if said man denies proposal, he must either: a) give her money, b) buy her a new dress, or c) buy her 12 pairs of gloves to cover her unbetrothed hands. So women make out monetarily or with their new beau. And as a lady, that sounds pretty good to me.
I'll definitely try to keep up the page better. Promise. But for now, I've got some menfolk to propose to. Besos.
No comments:
Post a Comment