Kicking February's Back Side

I don't mean to be petty and cruel when it's already a goner, but MAN, I hate February... always have. It's funny, because some of my favorite people in existence were born in the month (my grandma, my cousin, my Peggy, Leanne—no offense if I missed you, it's really a very long list), but the month itself? I'll pass.

It's all a bit ironic really... I've fallen in love in February... twice I think—though one was one of those unhealthy obsessive things—the only Cancer I've ever dated and MAN is THAT a bad idea—one emotional vacuum is all any relationship can take. I first experienced 'normal weight' in February of 1985 when I realized MY Freshman 15 was weight LOST. And this year, I seem to have had the best writing opportunity I've had knock on my door, and offer to patiently wait while I do my stuff. Those are gigantic positives and STILL I hate the month.

So why would I hate it so?

My first recollection of February hatred was triggered by an essay I wrote (for fun—I'm that kind of geek—y'all get me, because most of you are geeky that way too) on why February only has 28 days. Who could stand it any longer? I mean really... I wrote the essay at 18.

It is possibly grounded in the Valentines in which I was passed by for more popular girls. I had popular FRIENDS so I got to see what it was SUPPOSED to be, but I was 19 before I got that royal treatment (thank you Guy—you were wonderful and I was rotten. I wish I'd known I was allowed to be more honest—it would have lasted less time, but I would have hurt you less). He bicycled up the to door of my sorority with a big box that had three roses and a huge teddy bear. And I adored it, and him. To this day that is my biggest Valentine's.

But by that time, I was already cynical, and thinking I'd rather be mysterious, interesting and naughty, than a nice girl with a nice boyfriend.

That brings me to February's next terrible feature... It's STILL dark, it's STILL cold, it's STILL winter. Enough stillness! I want some ACTION. I can handle March's turbulence, because it is kicking winter's butt OUT. Granted, March in Michigan lasts to nearly May, but it TRIES the whole time. We have a day now and again where it is above freezing... where rain makes the snow on the ground all mushy and begins flooding basements... Okay, so maybe March doesn't have so much to recommend it, but it's a trooper... it's working to get there (like most of us, I think). And at least I know in my head that if I was in PORTLAND still, the daffodils would be in bloom. So somehow I don't blame March for our plight like I do February.

IT'S THE LAST DAY OF FEBRUARY!!!! ONLY 6 MORE WEEKS OF WINTER!!!

Sorry. Michigan moment there.

See, in Michigan, almost every year, winter gives spring amiss and goes right on in to summer. I've experienced a month of spring here... once. But usually it runs closer to four hours. (it falls in the second half of April—a week in which we begin with a snowfall and end by putting up the storm windows so we can open the house because it's 80). You think I'm kidding, don't you? I'm not.

See, from FEBRUARY that glorious 4 hours of spring is still two months away. From MARCH, I can see it on the horizon.

So there you have it... all I have to say today is GOOD RIDDANCE FEBRUARY.