I don't like February.
I find it cruel, and generally untrustworthy. It's like the cat of months.
Here are six reasons why:
It's the most misspelled month. Depending on the source, two pronunciations are acceptable; both with and without the "r." But you have to spell it with the "r." Now, if it is in fact OK to pronounce it Feb-u-ary, then where did the "r" come from? I wonder if February inspired the singer Sade. "If there can be a month spelled with an 'r,' but pronounced without it, then I'm going to spell my name without an 'r,' but pronounce it with it." At least Brett Favre's last name contains all the necessary letters, even if he doesn't pronounce them in the correct order.
Number of Days
February has an inconsistent number of days. Normally, there are 28 days, but every fourth year, there are 29. I was already annoyed, and now this. There are always 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day, seven days in a week, and 12 months in a year. But it's not always 365 days in a year. Nope. Every four years, we need to add a day to try and keep the calendar year in step with the astronomical year. What a pain in the butt. I mean, I always feel bad for people born on or near Christmas. They always seem to get the short end of the stick when it comes to presents. But at least they don't have to wait four years to have a proper birthday, like the poor souls born on February 29th.
I'm pretty sure I've talked about this before. I'm from Chicago. Spring gets here when it damn well pleases. It pays no attention to calendars, let alone shadows and whistle-pigs.
This is a big one.
It started in grammar school, when you had to get a valentine for everyone in your class. I suppose this was the forerunner to the "everyone gets a trophy" idea. While I can see the point of protecting young, yet-to-be-crushed hearts, I'm not sure delaying reality does anyone any good.
It didn't get any better from there.
Either you have a romantic interest on Valentine's Day, or you don't. In my experience, these are just different versions of the same hell. If you're alone, everyone around you seems to be head over heels in love and have the most amazing plans. If you're with someone, you feel pressure to come up with amazing plans in order to demonstrate your love, and if you don't, then what the hell is wrong with you?
The most romantic things usually happen spontaneously, not because you're looking at a calendar.
I cannot remember enjoying one single Valentine's Day.
Besides, did you ever google St. Valentine? The first thing I found was probably the least romantic thing I've ever read. First of all, there may be more than one St. Valentine, or the stories of multiple people have been rolled into one. Anyway, the date of February 14th is remembered because that's the day he endured a three-part execution. They beat the dude for a while, then stoned him, and then beheaded him.
If that doesn't scream "romantic love" I don't know what does. Although, for those who have been through a nasty divorce, that probably sounds about right.
For some, the fact that pitchers and catchers report to spring training in February makes them happy. Not I. I like baseball, and I like spring. This is neither.
This is professional athletes with better lives and a hell of a lot more money than I playing catch in warm climates.
It is invariably covered on the TV news, as if beaming shots of sunshine, palm trees and people in shorts into our living rooms is supposed to make us forget that we're wearing layers of clothing and that there are still mounds of ice and snow outside.
February is the last full month of winter, but it can be just as cold as and snow as much or more than in January. Sure, a couple of unseasonably warm days can pop up in February, allowing a bit of warmth to enter your blood, and a little hope to enter your heart. That's just so it stings a little harder when the cold and snow inevitably returns.
February is just toying with you, like a cat.
Hang in there everyone, and come on March!