Happy Valentine's Day

Much as I said I would, I've decided to repost what I think of this whole notion of love and all that on Valentine's day (i.e. today). As many of you know, I've spent the past 25 years without any particular person that I was supposed to give anything to on this day. I used to get more sad about that. These past few years, the sadness has been far less significant. I think I've just come to accept that, at least for now, to be alone on Valentine's Day is my lot in life.

Will it change? Maybe. Maybe not. I certainly don't know. I sure hope so, though. To that effect, I thought I'd let you all know that I've officially lost 20 lbs so far on my diet. On Sunday I might post a new picture. I'd be a little surprised if you saw much difference. I think the weight loss is more all around and less targeted toward my belly.

Um. Yeah. So I guess, without any further ado, I re-present The Fictions in our Heads.

I think it's possible that the last 20 minutes of the christmas special of The Office, made by those crazy brits across the sea, are the best 20 minutes of television ever written.

Of course, in order for them to really do their job, you have to slog through the rest of it, but that isn't too bad.

But, back to the main point, I don't know if I have ever felt more joyful and hopeful than I did when I saw Dawn walk back in. If you've seen it, I think you'll know exactly what I mean. It's amazing. It's that affirmation of life that so many priests try to explain every sunday, but never quite manage. It is the pure, unadulterated joy of knowing that, once you get past all of the horribleness and anger and frustration and pain and fear of loneliness, out there is a moment of wonder and relief that makes everything else worth it.

Of course, this is television. That kind of thing doesn't happen in real life. I doubt I will ever experience it. To quote Shakespeare "Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Real lives aren't poetic or just or meaningful. For all of the imagined drama real lives simply are what they are. But that doesn't mean I can't dream about a life that mght be one of beauty and love and spirit and meaning.

You know, I don't remember where I heard this, but I once caught the argument for Santa Clause. Specifically, the question was why do we lie to our children about things like Santa Clause and elves and fairies and magic. The answer was perfect. We lie about those things to teach children about the bigger lie of truth, liberty, justice, and morality. In reality, all of those things are just fictions in our head. They are stories we place upon events so that the world makes sense. But can you imagine a world without them?

I don't ever want to.

And so, if we're going to believe in truth, liberty, justice, morality, and all those other things, why shouldn't we believe in love and a happy ending as well?

Oh, one other thing. I once got a girl a box of chocolates on valentine's day, because she didn't have a boyfriend at the time, and I thought she deserved one. Even if it isn't me, I think she still does. As far as I can tell, she spent almost her entire life worrying for and helping others. Anyone whose been through her life deserves someone who will spend a little time looking after her. And boy, can she dance.