What I'll be doing this Valentine's Day....

I was just asking a friend what he was doing for Valentine's Day yadda yadda blah blah blah and I suddenly realised that I've never ever celebrated Valentine's Day before! Now once, not with any one of my numerous guy friends!

I've never gotten the chance to wear nice nice (preferable in pink or wed or virginal white), carry big big bunch of disgusting-smelling roses, or worse even, ugly sunflowers, and dine in a posh restaurant where I get to eat minute servings of food, filling up the rest of my empty tummy with "more warm water please!". I so poor thing right?!!

So I guess that explains why I denounce so vehemently the pink and red-coloured themed festival celebrations. I've been psychologically traumatised by all the rejection and lack of love all these years. I'm emotionally pretty well adjusted the rest of the days of the year, except for 14 February when I suddenly turned all psychotic and witch-like in my quest to destroy anything pink and red and floral in design.

Poor poor me. Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. I'm going to eat some worms...

Now that I've found out the source of my Valentine's Day misery, do you suppose I can reverse the damage that's been done to my poor damaged spirit? Will a Valentine's Day celebrated with all the pomp and grandour that money can buy lift me out of my anti-love doldrums? If some nice kind chap, pitying my poor loveless state, decides to spend all his money in the world to buy me humongous bunches of flowers and feed me expensive exotic food with unpronounceable names and ends the night with a fireworks display aboard the Titanic, will the spell of anti-Valentine's be lifted off me, turning me all gooey mushy and and romantic?

"Haha! Fat chance!" I hear somebody snigger. In fact, I know for a fact there're more than one of you chortling away at this point! (Sharrup Sucker! And you too E! And Wee, you want to die issit?!)

You know what, I have to agree with whoever is sniggering away. The chances of turning me into a romantic is about as slim as turning a crock of shit into a pile of glittering diamonds. I'll never ever like red or pink roses, heart-shaped balloons, expensive chocolates and high-class posh restaurants.

My idea of a great date is to meet him after work, and take a nice long stroll home in the cool evening breeze, hand in hand, and occasionaly breaking into a run because I didn't want my ears pulled for making fun of his wierd hair-cut. (He cut his hair especially for the occasion you see...) We'll walk hand in hand, to the supermarket! Because all the restaurants are so crowded, and because I wanted to make a pathetic effort at being romantic, I have decided to attempt to cook dinner (TA DAH!). After much thinking, I have decided to cook, by my very ownself, instant noodles and fried eggs for dinner, to be washed down by chocolate cookies (Hey! I can bake!) and potato salad! And Ruffles Sour Cream Potato Chips!

After dinner, we'll settle down to watch a DVD, probably something more funny than romantic. And then we'll switch off all the lights, light the candles, and play hide and seek! (Loser has to do push ups!) After that very strenuous activity, which has us panting and heaving and groaning (with pain because we stubbed our toes in the dark playing hide and seek), we'll probably find ourselves hungry again, after that very pathetic and very wierd meal, and the best kind of middle-of-the-night food will be BBQ! Knowing us, we'll stuff our faces until we look like chipmunks with cotton wool stuffed in our cheeks! (But then again, some of us naturally look like cotton-wool stuffed chipmunks anyway. Chipmunks wearing spectacles!)

To work that fat off, we'll go jogging around the neighbourhood. By then, it's almost dawn, and I guess it'll be pretty romantic to see the sun as it rises, hidden behind clumps of tall buildings. Never mind if the view sucks, watching sun rises still qualify as 'romantic' activities. By then, we're probably so dead tired we'll just drag ourselves home, call the office to tell them we're sick, and then collapse into bed.

Now that's my idea of a romantic evening... Any takers? Anybody willing to make my dream come true?