Happy V-Day! And Valentine's Day, too!

Yes, they're different. You didn't know? Oh, well then, allow me to explain. V-Day is less about cards and flowers and more about rape, female genital mutilation, and other general acts of violence against women. See? Just a little bit different.

Using today to spread awareness of these issues is WAY more important to me than candy hearts or diamonds (ugh, don't get me started on those overpriced, boring little fuckers) so if you find yourself so inclined, please check out vday.org, forward the link to friends and family, or do whatever bit you can.

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That being said, on to Valentine's Day! I kind of TOTALLY LOVE it, but it's important to put it in perspective. (Though if you didn't get me flowers today, I'm going to cut you. Kidding! No, really, I am kidding.)

It's never been a day solely about romance for me (basing anything solely on romance? Yeah, no thanks!). I prefer to view it as a day to do nice things for all the people in your life that you love, particularly those that you've become accustomed to having around and may not always show appreciation for. Call your parents and tell them that you love them, surprise your best friends with a sweet gesture, take your dog out for an extra-long walk at Dog Beach. Do all those things that you should do, but don't, because the soul-crushing minutiae of life gets in the way and bogs you down until it's all you can do just to SURVIVE.

(I hear that happens sometimes.)

And do something nice for yourself, too:

Jameson 18 yr. old

Lindemans Framboise Lambic

...and, in the spirit of the day, this book:

Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield

I read a lot of books. A LOT of books. I'm getting my master's in library science and spend 40 hours a week working at a library, and it is all because of how VERY, VERY MUCH I love books. (Sometimes to the exclusion of pretty much anything/anyone else). And yet I can't recall a single time in which a book has ever made me cry. Not one. EVER.

But this book? Totally made me cry. A review from the Village Voice sums it up better than I could:

"Here's what we learn about Renée Crist, Rob Sheffield's wife, 14 pages into Love Is a Mix Tape: "Renée died on May 11, 1997, very suddenly and unexpectedly, at home with me, of a pulmonary embolism. She was thirty-one." Even with this knowledge, though, the memoir's narrative is so light and joyous that it comes as a shock when Renée dies halfway through.

Sheffield writes about their life together with such excitement that her death never looms; its inevitability fades. We meet Sheffield as an awkward kid in Boston and follow him through high school and college. When he encounters Crist, they're both grad students in Charlottesville, Virginia. We see them fall in love and get married and go on road trips and argue and watch TV. The boy-meets-girl stuff might not be anything new, but Sheffield tells the old story with an impressionistic warmth. And so when she dies, it's a sudden jerk out of a hazy dream. It's a hard book to finish."

And if you're still not swayed, consider this: when a hooker recommends a book about love, you should probably listen:

"Romance sucks. That is, the traditional idea of what romance is sucks. Fuck flowers, the best first-date gift I ever got was a book my date thought I would like. Hearts and flowers and carriage rides, that stuff can’t hold a candle to showing up at the emergency room with a book and a clean pair of underwear. Love is in the details, which is why I fell head over heels for Rob Sheffield’s Love is a Mix Tape."

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I hope you all learn a bit about the stories behind V-Day, and have a lovely Valentine's Day, as well.

Cheers.