Glad That's Over!

I know you're agreeing with me before you even know what I'm referring to. While I look forward to the day when we can say "Glad that's over!" about the pandemic, I seem to have no trouble finding other things to want to be done with. Am I a certifiable Debbie Downer? Or is there just too much bad stuff happening around me? Maybe if I write about it, I'll get it out of my system.

So . . . 

Glad Valentine's Day is over! I'm no longer big on holidays (except maybe for St. Patrick's Day when there's beer), but Valentine's Day is one I particularly dislike. And it has nothing to do with the fact that my father (who was born on Columbus Day) was named Valentine. You see, my birthday is the day before Valentine's Day. So going out for the traditional birthday dinner in a restaurant was never a good experience, especially if those days fell on a weekend. I don't mean to sound sexist, but I think there are a lot of men out there who fulfill their romantic obligations once a year when they treat their woman to dinner out on Valentine's Day. So restaurants are crowded (at least when there's not a pandemic out there). And the hearts! Everywhere hearts! Why hearts? Why not brains? Was I misinformed when I was told that the brain is the most powerful sex organ? I know you're thinking that brains aren't particularly attractive, but neither are hearts! You know that particular organ has been stylized to serve as a symbol of love. And if you want to argue with me and say that Valentine's Day is about love, not sex, then how come so many people have birthdays in mid-November? Huh? Think about it! Anyway, maybe you enjoyed your Valentine's Day, and I'm happy for you, but I'm glad it's over. 

Glad my birthday's over! Yep, you saw that coming, didn't you? You can reread the above paragraph for some of the reasons that I don't particularly like having a birthday in February, but wait! There's more! While I will admit to having had some lovely birthdays, especially ones where I was somewhere else, like the Bahamas, there were twice as many bad ones. Some of them even occurred on Friday the 13th, like when I turned 26 (2x13) and 31 (13 backwards). For how many of my birthdays do you think I was snowed in? More than I want to remember. But one stands out. Turning 21 is a big deal. You get to go into a bar and order a beer and proudly show your ID. When I turned 21 in college, all the bars were closed because of a storm. And it was a Saturday night! Someone in the dorm had a bottle of Cherry Kijafa, and so we had to make do with that. I've never had Cherry Kijafa since. But the main reason I dislike birthdays is because they come with expectations. Like how many cards will I get in the mail? How many presents? Will there be a surprise party? And these days, how many FB "Happy Birthday!"s will I get? Now, at my age, I've been able to let go of those expectations for the most part, but there's still some anxiety leading up to the "big day." It's akin to "Who loves me?" and I hate that insecurity. So, yes, I'm glad my birthday's over.

Glad that impeachment trial is over! Now I know that some of my readers dislike when I get political, although it's hard not to these days. After the election, I was going to ease off the attention I'd been paying to all things political. Then January 6 happened, and I was back in front of the TV way too much. And after that coverage eased up a bit, along comes the Senate trial. We knew how it would end, but some of us kept hope alive. (We still do.) Anyway, it was good theatre, it was bad theatre, and it was all-consuming. And then it ended the way we expected it to, despite the reality that there should have been a different ending. (See McConnell's speech after the vote.) Let me take this opportunity to highlight something that continues to bug me. There are many who think that the acquittal means that he was not impeached. That is wrong. He remains impeached - twice! - but not convicted. I don't want to go any further with this topic because what's the point? I'll just say that I'm glad it's over.

Glad that I'm still kicking. Yeah, here's the result of my ranting about those things. The realization that I'm still here to bitch about them. There are good reasons for me to stay hopeful and positive. I may be 71, but I'm in relatively good health. There are people who love me. There is renewed hope for this country. There are vaccines. (I get my second dose this weekend.) I have my first grandchild to love (even if it's remotely for now). By mid-July, all three of my children will be married and on their own journeys, likely giving me more grandchildren, grand-dogs, and grand-cats. There is a man who loves me (and does NOT buy me stupid chocolates in a heart-shaped box, but instead sends me a copy of John Fowles' The Magus because he's pretty sure I will like it). I can honestly say that, despite all the bad stuff, life is good. And I'm glad it's not over.