I pulled back the hood and I was talking to you and I
Knew then it would be
A lifelong thing
But I didn't know that we
Could break a silver lining.

And I'm so sad
Like a good book
I can't put this day back
A sorta fairytale with you.

Things you said that day up on the 101
The girl had come undone
I tried to downplay it with a
Bet about us
You said that you'd take it
As long as I could not erase it.

Tori Amos, "A Sorta Fairytale"
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I don't really like Valentine's Day that much, simply because it puts a lot of false pressure on you as a single person. Mind you, I'm not single, and in fact I'm ethereally happy with a certain girl named Heather, who seems to be my perfect opposite and complement. But irrespective, I wore red today, in my expensive shirt with my expensive tie, and I decided to get an expansive car wash for the girl I ride every day: Betty. I stood there on Reyes Adobe watching three diligent workers wax Betty to a perfect shine for my (payment's) sake. I like being surrounded by the luxurious objects which I use as a measure of my success. Other people use other methods to gauge their success in life; I use this simple metric: what I didn't have yesterday, I have today. This notion doesn't need to be carried to the grandiose extremes of a Paris Hilton or Donald Trump. There exists grace and beauty in the simplicity of a job well done or a small coffee break earned. I don't see the discrepeancy, nor do I appreciate the notions of cutthroat capitalism. My principle lines up as thus: I worked hard, and I expect to have something to show as a result of it.