Dear Valentine's Day

All the Charlie Browns out there can relate...

There are soooooooo many things I could say about you V-Day. So many. I could call you a corporate creation, a devious idea devised by Hallmark and DeBeers to capitalize on our romantic insecurities. You could be the crutch that Hallmark relies on, since no one really buys greeting cards anymore. You could be an excuse for everyone to rush to their local Walgreens at 5:57 today to pick up various red-colored and heart-shaped wares that lose their value in 2 days. That's the most popular reason for hating you these days, so I'll go somewhere different to keep from beating dead Cupids horses with sticks. I could call you a day of exclusion and isolation for those unfortunate enough to not have a significant other, but that would be me being bitter and angry at my own lack of romance. It would certainly be easy, but probably the most depressing letter I've ever written. No one likes to be reminded of the fact that they're alone, so I'll steer clear of that one too. I could call you a lot of things, but instead I'm going to pose a hypothetical:

What do people born on February 14 do?

Simple, yet puzzling isn't it? Seriously though, V-Day. If a person's birthday just so happens to lie on February 14th, their personal day of conquest and admiration turns into a lovey-dovey heart-fest. If the person decides to go to dinner, they're privy to the oodles of couples playing tonsil hockey, whether its Applebee's or Mr. Chow. If the person goes to work or school, they're subject to everyone trying to infect them with the Red Fever. If the person turns on the television, they have to watch bad Valentine's Day episodes of every show, from the Seinfeld to Sesame Street. Hell, if they want to go to the movies, they have to be tortured by the sight of a movie, dedicated to your namesake and ideology: that love can conquer all. It's like there's a hex on today if you're single or don't feel love's oh-so-icky (taking it back to kindergarten) pull. V-Day, I don't buy it, nor will I be buying anything.

No, this isn't an 'I hate love' post, nor do I intend to take money love out of your pockets heart, by disparaging the lameness love that goes into your day. If you're meant to touch a couple, then do your thing V-Day. If someone happens to have a storybook ending on your day, then that's just peachy (the opposite happens so much more often than we like to admit). Just know that my Sunday, and my weekend will be dedicated not to you or any significant other. I will be bumping the hardest, hood-ded-est, ignorant of all hip-hop (Ready to Die is inevitably part of that playlist), writing some more of these blogs, and watching NBA All-Star Weekend, hoping that the Red Fever comes nowhere near these shores. Valentine's Day, ironically, instead of loving others more after you, I love myself all the more, as selfish as that sounds. Hopefully more people do the same instead of having insulin shock delivered in a heart-shaped box...

How can any sane, single person not want to murder the creators of this movie??