Oh Valentine’s Day.

Some people hate it.  Some people love it.  Some people freak out over it.  Some people go to great lengths to celebrate it. Some people aren’t me.

I simply do not care about Valentine’s Day. I had a few people request my company for this silly holiday, but I turned them down. I already had great plans–plans that an overpriced dinner and flower filled vase couldn’t touch.

There were several bottles of red and white wine.  There were sausage balls. There were red and pink dresses.  There were free donut Valentine’s cards. And there was the “Thong Song.”

Awhile back, Canadian Neighbor, Canadian Roommate, Dev and I decided we would all celebrate with each other. We wouldn’t take dates and instead we would spend it the way we spend most of our Saturdays.

We made dinner at the C Neighbor’s house, drank a lot of wine and danced around to cheesy 90’s songs.  That’s a night I will celebrate.  When eleven finally rolled around and it was time to make our way downtown, C. Roommate decided to go to bed and the rest of us took our wine filled veins to the bus.  For as much wine we consumed, we weren’t as drunk as one would think.

We got New Castles at a bar I don’t particularly like, but friends were there, so we went. We met some boys from the baseball team of a school north of here.  They complimented me on my hat and our choice in dark beer.  Eventually they bored us and we walked away.

We saw a guy with a sexy beard. He was standing by himself, occasionally looking at his phone. I made eyes at him, he at me and right before I went into compliment him on his lovely beard, he walked away. Wine sunk in and the New Castle I spilled all over my dress would be proof of my sudden drunken state.

I found more friends at the bar.  Bearded boy was sitting with some of them.  I managed to sit right next to him–he didn’t notice, his tongue was buried down the girl’s throat that he was sitting next to.  I shrugged at Dev and spilled more beer on myself.  We left shortly after.

We ran for the bus, missed it by a minute and sought warmth in the bus stop.  The New Castle now found it’s way into my brain–the yelling started.  I accosted girls in poorly matched cowboy boots and dresses.  It was humorous.  Canadian Neighbor went off on this girl basically wearing a handkerchief. It was cute. Canadian Neighbor, not the handkerchief girl.  It was here that I vaguely remember talking shit to some guy telling me to stop judging people.  I simply explained, “I’m not judging these people. I’m telling you based on fact that these people don’t know how to dress themselves.”  He gave me some speech about how I’m not allowed to judge. I wasn’t listening.  I was too busy judging him.

We took to the bus and scurried down our apartment street afterwards, fumbling with keys in the door and tripping up the stairs.  Neighbor went her way, I went mine.  I took my beer stained dressed and hopped in bed–texting too many people to count, many not coherent.  I woke up six hours later still in my dress and my phone in my hand.  The spot in my bed next to me only filled with my laptop and a textbook. It was just another Saturday.

Valentine’s Day came and went. I guess I missed it somewhere in those bottles of wine and Sisqu and Shaggy singalongs.

I did however just buy some discounted dark chocolate candy from the grocery store, so for that I can say I’m ok with Valentine’s Day. But I don’t think my dry cleaning bill will be discounted.  Damn you, cupid.

But more importantly, boys and girls, my birthday is tomorrow and now…that’s a reason to celebrate..for an entire week.

<3 Hope you got more action then I did, Baby Dell’s  hard drive can only do so much for me.  <3