I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or a prostitute. ~Rebecca West.

Hey Valentine’s Day: I’m just not that into you.

I tried Wikipedia-ing the holiday to find out what the deal is. I never considered it a “real” holiday and as it turns out, I was right. Nothing extraordinary happened which led to the creation of Valentine’s Day. And while there are some religious martyrs out there bearing the name “Valentine,” that’s about it. No great act of romance was committed. No lives were saved. No event happened that was so powerful, so amazing, that people all over the world declared, “This is the day we shall celebrate LOVE!”

It didn’t work that way. I bet you’re as disappointed as John McCain.

Did you know that in the United States, men typically spend twice as much than women for Valentine’s Day? Obviously the men in those surveys were not any of my former boyfriends. Not to say I want a second Christmas in the first quarter of the new year. Not at all. I am a firm believer in “it’s the thought that counts.” I don't need a parade. I just want you to wave to me. Let me share with you some past experiences:

1. One year my boyfriend at the time left 3 bags of Hershey’s kisses (still in the plastic grocery bag) on the front seat of my car on Feb. 15th, complete with a banged up “Valentine’s Day” card with words crossed out inside, ‘personalizing’ it to me. It was obvious he hit a 24 hour supermarket and the card he grabbed was probably one of the last Valentine’s Day cards. I ended up bringing the candy to the office for my coworkers, and he ended up whacking me with a bottle of Jagermeister.

2. Then there was the year I made dinner. That boyfriend showed up and said, “I’m not really in the mood for that. Let’s go out and grab a pizza.” So we did (note to readers who know me: I think I was in too much shock to be pissed at the time. I’m still in shock, and this was years ago). The next day he took me to Home Depot and said I could pick out any potted plant I wanted, his treat. Boy oh boy, was I the luckiest girl in the world or what?! I eventually ended up giving the plant away and he ended up leaving me for his exgirlfriend.

(in all due fairness, I do like potted plants)

3. And last but not least, there was The Year of the Single Girl. Well, that could be any year…there were several of those, too. But the one I remember most clearly was the year I chilled with my gay friend. He introduced me to gay porn. Nothing says “romance” like two football players playing pool, making comments about balls, long sticks and “getting it in the pocket”.

Given my track record, I’ve decided not to push for Valentine’s Day lovin’. So this year, I will be putting the O, Man! in Romance. I’ve gathered up two girlfriends (we cannot have any more, or we’ll look like a Sex and the City cliché) and we are heading out into the city for Valentine’s Day. Girlfriend # 1 is having a lurid affair with a legally bound gentleman. Girlfriend # 2 (bumblebee) dumped her boyfriend last week so she could date one of his friends on the sly. And I am the girl with a plan. I’m thinking we could go to a gun range, or maybe enter some sort of fried food eating contest (my handle will be Eatz4-2). Or, we could do “girl things”: Get our nails done, go to pet stores and cuddle the puppies, grab dinner, go dancing, drink too much wine then cry about how we hit our 30’s and no one wants us, then start telling each other how we’re the prettiest, smartest, awesomest girls in the world (with great hair!) and guys are just intimidated by that and you know what? It’s their loss and our gain, we don’t need them anyway because we have each other…you know, GIRL THINGS.