My best (and only) Valentine’s gift came from Canada today. I got sworn in as a Canadian citizen.
My judge was a desi. How ironic is that? That I come halfway around the world, and the judge who swears me in is a desi. Only in Canada, I say (and so does he), ONLY in Canada.
Feels good. I guess no different, except when I was at the ceremony. Perhaps because this is no “lifelong dream” come true. Just another stage. I must admit, though, that I was terribly teary-eyed at the sincerity of it all. We were 80 people. Was a bit bemused that E. did not reaffirm his oath, despite telling me how much it had meant to him to become a part of the “Canadian family.”
Went to work after that. Jack wished me and sent me an email, which I was touched by.
Screw Valentine’s Day. You know, the harder I try not to let the consumerism get to me, the more carried away I get by it. I guess I just like the idea of having a day where a couple forgets the rigours and responsibilities of everyday life and just focuses on the relationship, on creating a special moment. And so what if it’s enforced? And so what if its origins are rather suspect?
I don’t care WHAT anyone thinks, but a girl likes to get flowers, even if she says she doesn’t want them. That being said, a girl likes to get flowers any day, for no reason. I think I’ll just go buy myself flowers one of these days, when I can overcome my guilt (and my appetite) to put them in my budget.