Saturday, February 16, 2013

St. Valentine's Day Massacre

Disclaimer--I started writing this on VD and finished it today. 

Al Capone. An interesting character of sorts.  A man who gave true meaning to the term "Gangster".  Which, is hilarious if you think about today's standards and the 'gangsters' that we deal with.  Completely different culture.  Completely different appearance, meaning and agenda.  Either way, back in the days where moonshiners ran rampant in the underground speakeasy taverns of Chicago, Al Capone was king.  He had whatever he wanted.  Money, women, sex, alcohol, perhaps drugs.  He had power.  He was even considered somewhat of a 'Modern Day Robin Hood', as he used the money from his indiscretions to make charitable donations on his behalf.  Now, I am not sure why I just went on a random tangent about Al Capone, nor do I know how it's going to completely tie into this blog....

Oh, that's right....the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Chicago, 1929.  So, Valentine's Day, also known as 'St. Valentine's Day'--is supposedly a religious holiday of sorts. If I had the energy to do my research, I would tell you about the origins of such a holiday---but I am not feeling it today. Long story short, 5 members of a gang (rivaling Capone) were lined up by Capone's cronies dressed as coppers.  They were then shot to death with tommy guns.  Pretty brutal.  Also pretty loud if you think about a tommy gun.  Also pretty messy.  Either way, it would be hinted that Capone was involved in the murders, but I don't believe he was ever brought up on charges.  For the rest of his life, especially towards the end (when he was going crazy as a result of Syphilis) he claimed that the ghost of one of those shot during the massacre. Regardless of that, I do think that I find some humor in the celebration of today--because of  the massacre in 1929.  Why this day?  Why do we celebrate such a holiday?  Why do we put so much investment into telling someone we love them on one day?  Shouldn't we love someone every single day with everything that we are?  I once had a joke with my roommate in college about Al Capone and the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.  Again, I don't know where I am going with this, and I don't know why I am going on a tangent about V-Day and this massacre.  Either way, I got you interested, didn't I?

4 months. 4 months later and here I am.  I supposed that a lot has happened, and really when I think about it not much of anything has happened at all.  I also suppose that I have taken some kind of steps to make myself feel better, mostly because the truth of it is I am the only one who can make myself happy.  I used to think that my happiness rested on the shoulders of the one who supposedly loved me.  For a very long time, my happiness did rest on his shoulders.  I wish that I could say that the realization that I am the only one who can make myself happy---has changed my outlook on things.  It has and it hasn't.  While I realize that he cannot affect my life, he still does in numerous ways.  Thus, 4 months have come and gone---and I am the same and I am different; I am happy and I am sad.  As of this past week, lent has begun.  Traditionally, Lent is the time where we give up something we delight in: chocolate, fast food, soda, smoking.  This year, I am following in the footsteps of someone very dear to my heart.  I'm giving up being sad.  You see, I could easily give up any of the above mentioned things.  However, it's sadness that has taken over my life.  The question that has been posed to me over and over again, is "Why do you care?"  Why do I care?  I feel like I should have let go by now.  Why can't I let go?  There is this sense of loneliness that has been creeping into my heart, like the fog from the movie The Mist (yes, I just made that reference).  So now I have to channel my efforts and energy into being happy, and not sad.  Which should be simple----yet I think the lack of closure that I've been experiencing for the past 4 months has really been pulling at my heart.  You see my heart wants closure, but my brain knows that contact with him isn't going to do me any more good than my heart feels it will.  So, I have my own little Civil War occurring within my body.  I'm not sure which side is going to win.

This week I signed up for a gym--and while I am happy and excited about it, I wish that it could become an addiction that I can't shake.  I sometimes feel like the more time I spend alone, the more I would be inspired to go to the gym.  Deep down inside I want it to become an obsession.  Something I need to do in order to survive.  It sounds sick, but I cannot explain or describe the rush I experience from the endorphin(s) released as a result of working out.  Right now it's legitimately the only thing that gives me this pure sense of optimism. It's after working out, that I am able to think to myself 'every little thing is gonna be alright.'

So on Valentine's Day, I went to dinner with my dear friend.  Honestly, I didn't think of He Who Must Not Be Named one time.  There were couples staring hopelessly into each other's eyes, holding hands and eating their meals while sharing a glass of wine.  I enjoyed the company of my bestie--and didn't think of him.  That is a step in the right direction.

Sidebar---

As I am sitting here, writing, the show Catfish is on.  I find it odd that people can put so much investment into online relationships.  Why is it so easy to hide behind a computer screen?  This is what brings me to the inner workings of online dating. Which, is full of rejection, and judgement in addition to awkward and ballsy communication.  Men will contact you with the sickest comments and most ballsy attempts at connecting with you.  I think to myself, 'How do you think that you are going to receive a response from what you just said to me?' That, is a topic for another blog....

Well, this one was all over the place....and I hope you were able to follow my thought process.  I hope you all had a great Valentine's Day---even though I feel that so much investment should not be placed on one day of love......

A.

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