Oh boy, oh boy! Valentine's Day is upon us again kids, marking the anniversary of when that black doctor had a dream. I don't know about his sleep patterns, but if I were a black doctor (show idea), I would be dreaming about a special boy on Valentines Day. This boy would have a functioning penis, some initiative and enough energy to love me. The last dreamboat I set sail upon was more like a tug boat and it just sputtered out before even leaving the harbor, but somehow managed to cause enough damage to kill every living thing in my heart. That was until yoga the other day when my dream was rekindled by a man's toned, perfect body across from me. He looked at me and smiled, which was weird because he was in downward dog... I guess if I were in downward dog as well and not snapping pictures with my camera phone... it wouldn't be as odd (keep yoga weird, right?). The teacher did prompt us to "yell out all of the joy in our hearts through a silent smile!". Still, I think he was smiling just for me. Just like the Sun that shines just for me.
So anyway, I followed him home and as good as I can tell (after 96 consecutive hours), he doesn't have a girlfriend or a dog... so he might be my soul mate.
Valentine's Day is celebrated differently in other cultures. In the East they celebrate it in the Spring with baskets and colorful eggs. India celebrates nothing because they are so impoverished. I think of India when lamenting boys who couldn't love me and the parents who set those patterns in place. I think what would have happened if I were born in India? I probably would have been made a beggar and later a prostitute. However, as I got older (and more beautiful) a childhood friend would fight the odds to become a Millionaire and buy me away from my abusive drug czar boyfriend and we would all win a bunch of Oscars.
So whatever Valentine's Day means to you remember that India has a dream and so should you, but it should be a better dream, because chances are you have more money.
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