Tomorrow, hearts will be sent aflutter with flowers, chocolate, candle-lit dinners and the like. But not all hearts will be so delighted. For long-distance lovers and singletons, Valentine’s Day is just 24 inglorious hours of very public displays of affection. And on a campus teeming with primed 20-somethings, the parade of love paraphernalia will be unavoidable.

Sulking in moderation is acceptable, but it may be worthwhile to consider tomorrow a day of reflection. It’s likely that our notions of love are starry-eyed, thanks in equal part to romantic comedies and the canons of English literature. Relationship dynamics are changing. So, for the purposes of modernity, I think it appropriate to discuss the impetus of these shifting relations between us — the internet.

Communication is the key to a successful relationship, and the web is the key to modern communication. How do we reconcile technology with something as personal as our romantic affiliations?

There’s an ongoing debate on the matter. Do more closed or more open networks cultivate genuine connections between people? With something as large and vast as the web, if you’re looking for love, it’s there to be found. But what kind of love? Therein lies the distinction.

Intimate networks intended to nurture close relationships are growing simultaneously with large online communities that thrive on their users’ anonymity and the desire for quantity over quality.

I find those closed networks to work best for parties that already know each other well, particularly the LDR — the long-distance relationship. Having been away for months at a time from my own significant other, I understand all too well the monotony of incessant texting and calling. Maintaining an LDR requires subtlety, variation and surprise.

Path indulges all three of those things. It’s an application developed for iPhone and Android that is intended to be, “a limited, intimate, more personal network” which is, indeed, quite true. My network, for example, consists just of myself and one other. Path organizes — and elegantly so — messages, photos and locations in such a way that feels as natural as conversation in real life.

But maybe you don’t want real life. Maybe you don’t yet have a network of two, or maybe you don’t like to know too much. You like the mystery. I can’t continue without mentioning Craigslist personals here, the most primitive network that the web has to offer. The personals can be as innocent as “seeking hiking partner on weekends” or as salacious as “must be British and DTF tonight!” which is why, for most young people with their whole lives ahead of them, I think it best to avoid online classifieds altogether.

But there is an alternative that I was surprised to find frighteningly popular among 20-somethings.

I am new, apparently, to the world of Grindr, a location-based networking application for gay men that allows users to find each other within close proximity. The service has become so widespread (boasting millions of users worldwide) that its developer launched Blendr, an app for its lesbian and straight members, last spring. On the one hand, the app is freakishly calculative, refreshing its pages as you move about. But on the other hand, it offers the soothing affirmation that lone wolves are, as a matter of fact, not at all alone.

If the specificity of geosocial networking seems all too impersonal and the chumminess of closed networking comes across as too personal, look to the gray market vagueries of Missed Connections. They are available for nearly every city (yes, even Davis) and provide hope for those looking to reconnect a serendipitous encounter.

So, tomorrow, after ‘Linsanity’ takes on the Raptors and re-runs of Bridget Jones’ Diary stops playing, I encourage you to beat the blues. Open your laptops, and meet the many solutions of the internet.

Suga mamas switching it up and taking their men out tomorrow night need to contact NICOLE NGUYEN at niknguyen@ucdavis.edu for props.

The quickest way to lose your faith in humanity is by getting a job in customer service. Trust me on this one.

Now that my previous food service job of three months has fallen through and been replaced by another, I’m essentially a seasoned pro in the field. It has, after all, been over a week since my first scheduled shift in position #2.

Last Monday, a momentous occasion, marked my first day in the dish room at said new job. This night, when not spent attempting to get a handle on walking in my runway-ready non-slip shoe attachments, consisted of scraping food remnants into the compost bin, passing dishes down the cleaning assembly line and listening to 102.5 play Flo Rida’s “Good Feeling” four times.

To preface, I usually try to adopt a more positive standpoint regarding people (“usually” and “try” being the operative words here), but I’ve reached a point where this has become increasingly difficult.

My awareness of people’s general ability to suck becomes especially heightened while working on the receiving end of the rotating dish return. Judging by the half-masticated leftovers and half-assed, haphazard stacks of dishes sent around that mechanism, people seem to think that the behind-the-scenes dirty work is performed by subhumans rather than fellow students.

From what I have been told and witnessed firsthand, there are few things that people won’t place on the dish return trays. This must be somewhat of a universal customers’ modus operandi since, even in my last workplace, which catered to a much more mature crowd, trash and recyclables would consistently wind up in the same containers as the dishes, despite the numerous disposal areas on site. Due to recent events, my new employers even had to invest in biohazard waste bins and post gentle reminders for customers to please not place their hypodermic needles on the dish carousel.

In light of this, I suppose it’s fortunate that the highlight of my first shift was receiving an uneaten hamburger with a hole calculatedly drilled through the center and filled with overflowing ketchup. This particular burger didn’t stand out to me because it was any more difficult to clean, but rather because it represented the fact that somebody had turned their dinner into a makeshift volcano instead of eating it.

Naturally, I saw plenty of similar instances of discourtesy outside the dish room as well, like the table full of athletes who charitably decided to clear off their plates but left nibbled bread crusts and banana peels on the table. I can only imagine that this was their interpretation of meeting me halfway. And who could forget all the diners’ ambitious attempts at making towering soft serve ice cream cones only to have them end up on the floor? The obvious answer would be “the next person to come along and attempt the exact same thing,” since nobody ever seems to figure out that this feat has a success rate of about 0.1 percent.

Although patrolling the dining area has taught me that people can be horrible any time and place they choose (misplacing condiments, spilling soy sauce everywhere, gluing napkins to tables, etc) sifting through their leftovers in the dish room has given me a better platform to pass judgment –– nowhere is it easier to witness firsthand how disgusting people can be.

It isn’t the physical exertion of having to clean up somebody’s edible art that gets to me; at the end of the day, volcano or not, I’m still shoving leftovers into an open bin. The motions are all the same and, frankly, they’re nowhere near as painful as listening to Flo Rida unironically rap “I’m Bill Gates/Take a genius to understand me” multiple times in one night. Plus, I can always assuage myself by thinking “Hey, at least it’s not a syringe.”

There are a number of elements that do bother me about receiving a wasted meal, though, like the fact that the chefs work hard to make those dishes and plenty of people wait in line for them. And, as a member of Amnesty International’s mailing list, I can’t forget that there are children starving in [insert country here].

However, dealing with wastefulness and cleaning up people’s shit is all part of the job description, just like smiling and thanking them for their patronage; I knew that when I signed my work release forms. Fortunately, I have a second job, one that almost encourages me to turn right around and pass judgment on those very same people. Justice has been served.

DYLAN GALLAGHER just wants to be treated like an ordinary person. Send him an absurd amount of fan mail at dylaaaaan@gmail.com.

The 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals ruled on Tuesday to uphold gay marriage in California. The court dubbed Proposition 8, a ban on same-sex marriage, unconstitutional. The court’s decision rectifies the wrong done on Nov. 4, 2008 when voters passed Prop 8, restricting the right to equal protection for American citizens.

“Prop 8 serves no purpose, and has no effect, other than to lessen the status and human dignity of gays and lesbians in California, and to officially reclassify their relationships and families as inferior to those of opposite-sex couples,” the majority opinion, written by Judge Stephen Reinhardt, stated.

Although the ruling does not apply to every state and does not touch on the broader question of whether gay and lesbian couples may ever be denied the right to be married, it is still a great step forward for both our state and the rest of the country. This decision puts marriage rights in the national spotlight, as states like New Jersey, Minnesota and Washington also will deal with rulings on same-sex marriage this year.

Proponents of Prop 8 have 90 days to challenge the ruling and can either bring their case to the U.S. Supreme Court or first ask for a larger court of appeals panel to do a review.

Even though other states such as Massachusetts, New York and Iowa already have laws allowing same-sex marriage, the review of Prop 8 could be important for establishing a federal precedent if it goes to the Supreme Court. California can now serve as an example of what the future of the country should look like.

When I saw that one of my Facebook friends had thrown up a meme in support of the Susan G. Komen Foundation’s decision to withdraw funding from Planned Parenthood, I immediately responded with a counter-meme: a bright pink picture under my face that said, “Still Standing With Planned Parenthood.”

They later decided to reverse the decision, but in what sense was my action a stand for Planned Parenthood? Posting only took a click on a friend’s “Share” button; I wasn’t dedicating any time, effort or money to supporting the cause.

Clearly, if Facebooking is what it means to show commitment to reproductive rights, then this is an impoverished form of politics.

Indeed, as political theorist Jodi Dean suggests in her book Democracy and Other Neoliberal Fantasies, digital media often stands in as a compensatory substitute for political activity — what Dean calls the “technological fetish.” Even though most of us are unable to act to change things in the actual world, liking a meme or forwarding a quote makes us feel as if we’re doing something. I posted about Planned Parenthood, so I could go about my day feeling guilt-free and empowered.

However, this isn’t just a problem in the virtual world. Most activism and charity work seems geared toward helping us forget our helpless inactivity. The Susan G. Komen Foundation is a prime example: While some undoubtedly do good work for them, most just buy a ribbon or a pink-colored doodad and then forget about it.

Even within radical political movements, there is a frustrated desire to “do something.” I’ve been to multiple political discussions in which someone stands up and asks, “Why aren’t we out in the street right now?”

And yet, once the demonstrations start, they often become just another form of individualistic self-expression. In what economics journalist Doug Henwood terms “activistism,” protesters organize protests to recruit more protesters and inspire further protests, which are then held to generate more protests and so on.

When marches and rallies only fulfill the frantic need to be seen and heard by like-minded people, they become a fetish substitute for effective political action — like Facebook, but with giant puppets and drum circles.

The Occupy movement has demonstrated several ways to move beyond this issue. For example, the blockades of the ports in Oakland did more than just provide yet another venue for activist self-advertisement: They stopped the circulation of capital, if only for a brief period.

The movement has also shown the need for collective, face to face organization. The mass occupations accomplished what isolated groups, independent theorists and digital media activists have long failed to do: focus attention on economic inequality in the public consciousness. They did this by bringing people together in real-world struggle, thereby forging a shared purpose and vocabulary.

But we still need to solve the problem of passivity. People rely on Facebook to speak out not because they’re lazy but because they don’t have time for anything more.

While some attribute time poverty to technology or the way of the world, I would argue that it’s largely the product of our economic system. As wages stagnate and profits decline, the working class is forced to work more hours. So, after a long day of exhausting work, nobody wants to go link arms and sit in front of a bank.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the people most heavily involved in the occupations are unemployed, students or young professionals. It’s not that these groups are the new revolutionary subjects; it’s that everyone else is ground into passivity by mind-numbing work hours.

Activist movements should strive to include those who don’t have the flexibility to show up to spontaneous marches on a weekday or the ability to devote many hours to activism.

That first means protests should develop stable, open institutions with accessible contacts and regular meeting times.

Meeting workers halfway also entails welcoming different kinds of participation. Not everyone can risk arrest or march all day.

Finally, moving beyond the fetish of inaction also means finding workers where they live and work. Canvassing neighborhoods or organizing in workplaces may be frustrating and unglamorous, but it can be much more useful than holding events with people who already agree with us.

That doesn’t mean that activists should compromise their goals or commodify activism like the Susan G. Komen Foundation. But it does mean that we can’t just swap memes with our friends anymore.

JORDAN S. CARROLL is a PhD student in English who can be reached at jscarroll@ucdavis.edu.