Two things became epically clear to me today.
1. I really fucking hate Valentine’s Day
2. I really kinda love my city.
Let me explain. Today I took the day off to go to Eastern State Penitentiary with…let’s call him he who shall not be named. They were offering buy one get one tickets for the above hated holiday, and to be honest I felt like I needed a day off. So, I met up with my friend Darth Vader…wait…earlier I decided he was Voldermot didn’t I? Random note about Darth Vader- notice that that adorable super bowl commercial had the kid as Darth Vader- not as one of those whiny ass Skywalkers!!! I swear that family is born to suck- one wonders how Anakin was able to turn into such a badass. Hell, even having a Skywalker growing inside of you is enough to turn you into a sniveling shell of a woman- who somehow could fight wars at TWELVE, but “couldn’t bare to live without my pookie” (may not be an exact quote).
Anyway, so me and our dark Lord SEPTA’d our way to the jail. I had only ever been there at night for haunted houses every Halloween- so it was interesting to see the place during the day without people jumping out of every corner heavily made up. Also- my English may have gone down to ESOL levels thanks to approximately five and a half hours of sleep last night.
It was a beautiful day, but the prison was chilly. But..really interesting. I like old stuff, that’s part of what I love about my city- there is old stuff everywhere. It’s this wonderful mix of old and new, that a short walk can take you from a shiny skyscraper to a ruined prison, with adorable little rowhouses in between. Its kinda gorgeous if you can look past all the homeless people. I noticed this later too…but no. First the tour of the prison. Me and Vader toured the prison, and we had a very nice tour guide, and everything was peeling, and it was awesome. And it was cool to see how people lived, and how things change, and hear the stories of how people escaped, and how the city grew up around the prison. Just..my interest in these types of things is probably why I made the incredly destructive decision to be a Sociology major.
After the prison came one of my other favorite things to do- aimlessly wander. Well…we did have an aim, but I wouldn’t want to give up one of Voldermont horcruxes (yes, I am aware I am too big a dork to live- but at least I only watch the movies and don’t read the books), or provide some sort of clue to his secret identity. So, we walked around, and that is such a cute part of town, and it was gorgeous out.
And, we had time to burn, so we went to chick fil a (mmmm milkshake), and sat around. And I looked at the tall buildings, and the craziness around me. And..I loved it. This is my city- warts and all. Because when you love a place, you try to make it better, and maybe you bitch and moan, but when it comes down to it, there is something..I can’t quite describe, about just sitting on a bench, and looking up at the clouds and the skyscrapers as far as the eye can see. It was good…except…
Fucking Valentine’s Day. Ok, I cannot dispute that
much most some of my issues with the day…may be inspired by some longstanding…decade ranging…personal bitterness. I acknowledge this upfront. But..its not just that. It’s…so fucking generic. I mean, even if I was getting something for V.D. this year, I wouldn’t want it to just be the same crap that everyone else is getting. I wouldn’t feel the need to have those goddamn balloons, which soley exist to be slammed in the face of those who don’t have them. Seriously, balloons as a gift- lame unless you are flying in them. They bang around, and then they hang there, and then they die, and just make this sad little balloon funeral in the corner. If someone truly loved me, I wouldn’t want them to just get me the same balloons that everyone else gets. Don’t get me wrong, thought counts, I’d appreciate, thank you, etc etc. But..I’d much rather have something personal than flowers, or balloons, or candy. Something unique to me, or the relationship, or something. Like…a nerf gun. Or jewlery (hell I’m still a girl- you NEVER say no to jewlery). But, the holiday is just fucking wretched, I’m sick of people flaunting their candy, and ginormous cards, and stupid ugly balloons. It’s just…lame. It’s not just that I’m bitter- it’s also just lame. And fucking expensive. I’d much rather someone get me flowers some other time when they are reasonably priced and I least expect them. Not that anyone was asking me…
But hell, no one is asking me half the shit in this blog. When it comes down to it, Philly love trumps Valentine’s Day hate- so…me and Darth/Voldermot/insert random movie villain I’m too tired to think of…had a good day. At least I think so. I can look at the sky, and see blue, and sun, and shiny skyscrapers. I call that a win.