The Ballad of... St. Valentine?

Valentine's Day, is yet another day made national to give people a "reason" to consume.
(Many people don't really see it that way though).

Not much information is known about the real Saint Valentine. He was described to be: priest in Rome, a bishop of Interama, a martyr in the Roman province of Africa.
It's rather unclear how and why, St. Valentine has his own holiday. It's not even concrete fact if whether or not St. Valentine is in fact, the patron saint of lovers!

Either way, Valentine's Day is notoriously known for being the day of all of those who are in love, or have a significant other. It is a religious holiday for lovers. I suppose, they use that day to do something special for the person that they care about. Or as a good reason to have sex.
But whatever their motive they do not refrain from buying: chocolates, teddybears, cards, flowers, and taking their loved one out to dinner. Oh! And buying condoms, handcuffs, and lubricant.
Nothing says "I love you," more than having crazy sex... Right? Sure.

I on the other hand, have a nonexistent love life, and I am on the oppisite side of the spectrum when it comes to this holiday. And I am okay with that. For the most part anyway.
I honestly believe that I am much too young to understand what love really is. And I think dating in high school (particularly- my high school), would just be a waste of my time (being that 88% of the guys at my high school are: douche bags, idiots, and/or ugly. The other 12% that I would even consider are taken).
So instead, I do my best to avoid feeling anything for boys. And I've been rather successful for 2 years.
But as a consequence, I for the most part, lack the ability to really even feel anything. And when I do (begin to feel), it is always for the wrong person (usually douche bags who think that I'm an easy slut). But hey- I'll live.

In conclusion, these are the scenarios that I have come up with that would probably end up happening to me:
1)I'll become the Crazy Cat Lady, because I will have never married, and ended up in a house full of kitties, and smell of cat piss. (yay).
2)I will marry the first idiot who tells me I'm pretty, but does not love me. My marriage will be shit. And I'll be miserable.
3)I'll marry the first idiot who tells me I'm pretty, who doesn't love me. Have a super shitty marriage, kill him, end up on Snapped.

Just wonderful. Right?
Right.

Happy Valentine's Day!

The Perks of Being a Wallflower:

So the third week of December, I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower written by Stephen Chbosky. It was recommended to me by some girl that works at Barnes & Nobel, because she said it was like The Catcher in the Rye (my favorite book ever).
Well it was not even CLOSE to The Catcher in the Rye. At all.

After finishing the book, my thoughts were: "Whatthefuck happened?" and "The word "infinite" was completely over used."

So apparently, Charlie the main character (a socialy awkard freshmen) was molested by his favorite aunt, when he was little. The only reason he found out about his misfortune was because, when he was about to get laid by the girl of his dreams, he backed out cause he felt "uncomfortable." And then had a dream about his aunt later...

Charlie said the phrase, "I feel infinite." After that phrase was reworded to "and we were infinite," "and at that moment we felt infinite," "I was infinite..."
And if that phrase would have only been used ONCE, the book wouldn't have been as terrible.

The fact that this book was written in like the late 90s made the book worse that much more terrible. Because that was the time when everything that was written about in the book, was "in." (Stupid).

A LOT of people also said they could relate to Charlie. Could they really? No.
I doubt that all of those people had their favorite family member die, be molested by that family member, have your best friend commit suicide, do drugs, have a homosexual friend who kisses them (but is not homosexual themselves), be insanely smart, and then almost have sex with the love of thier life but then not.

Bottom line. The book was annoying. It tried too hard to be a "young adult novel," and to be a modern version of The Catcher in the Rye. And failed miserably.