VD-Day ... Oops, I mean V-Day

Even though it may look like I haven't posted anything here since last August, it's a lie. A lie, I tell you! I posted a ... posting ... (posted a blog? wrote a posting? blogged a writing? writed a posted blogging post?) just a couple weeks ago about dumb boys, but I deleted it. The posting about dumb boys was pretty dumb itself and I decided it was better if you, dear Readers, never read it. Just know this: Boys Are Dumb. That was the gist.

Now. On to a more current topic. Valentine's Day. Love it or hate it, it's tomorrow. Personally, I hate it. Perhaps I'd feel differently if Boys weren't so Dumb, but here is my reason for loathing this most romantic of holidays. Being a single girl, I really expect nothing of interest to happen to me on this day (no flowers, candy, teddy bears, jewelry, or romantic candlelight dinners for me - maybe a card from my Mom if I'm lucky). However, also being the hopeless romantic that I am, I can't help but hope for more. I imagine that million-to-one scenario where some Man Of My Dreams (MOMD) secret admirer decides that Valentine's Day 2006 is the day he's finally going to reveal his feelings, and he'll send me flowers and candy and all the other things I mentioned in the parentheses above, and I'll accept the gifts, and him since he is MOMD after all, and we'll fall in love and get married at the Wedding Of My Dreams and move to the House Of My Dreams and have all the little Babies Of My Dreams, etc, etc. But then I wake up from the Dream. Valentine's Day comes and goes and MOMD never appears. I feel sorta sad that nothing exceptional happened, but mostly I feel upset with myself for once again holding out hope that something will. Why do I end up feeling sorry for myself when I'm perfectly happy being single? I resolve that next year I'm not even going to recognize the fact that V-day exists and treat it just like any other day. But this is an impossibility in this consumer-driven world we live in, because as soon as all the Santas and reindeer and angels are packed away and put into storage, we are immediately bombarded with images of pink hearts and naked little cupids and I'm once again reminded just how single I am.

I'm sorry, that sounds very bitter. But I'm really not a bitter person. I'm too young to be bitter. But this is what Valentine's Day does to me and this is why I hate it. I really don't mind being single. It's not bad most of the time because I can do what I want whenever I want and I don't have to check in or answer to anyone but myself. When a friend calls and asks if I can go out on Saturday night, I can answer without having to say, "Oh, I don't know, I'll have to ask what Mr. BF is doing." So when one silly day comes along and makes me feel pathetic about something I normally don't have an issue with, I have to hate it. It's a matter of principle.

But. This year is going to be a little different. This year, I AM recognizing Valentine's Day. But I am not going to get distracted by my annual Dreamings. This year, I'm going out with some single friends to some sort of singles gathering (swallowing my pride a bit on that one) and I'm just going to have a good time. I have no expectations. I'm not going to try and meet someone. If I do, great. If I don't, who cares? At the very least, it's a night out with the girls, which is ALWAYS a good time. So if MOMD decides to come looking for me this year, he's not gonna find me because I'll be out being the social butterfly with the gal pals. He'll just have to wait for some random day in March when I least expect it. I prefer it that way anyway. I love surprises.

Cheers!
Okay, fine. And Happy ... Valentine's ... Day ... ! Man, that was hard to get out.