This year I spent Valentine's Day with a gift sampler of very funny girls and gay boys eating pizza and Lil' Smokies, drinking champagne, and watching dance movies. Eventually we ended up at 80's night in my second favorite gay bar, drenched in sweat and breaking out our best old school moves. There really aren't many ways that a Thursday night can be better, and it was so much healthier for me than, say, that time a few years ago that I accidentally got blackout drunk on Jaegermeister on Valentine's Day and nearly went home for a threesome with two gay boys. (I'll be forever grateful to Chris for putting a stop to that.)
Honestly, Valentine's Day has never been a thing for me. I've been in relationships on the day before--I had the best college boyfriend a girl could ask for, and this guy once sent me on the world's greatest Valentine's scavenger hunt around the city--but more often than not, I'm single for it. Right now that's especially for the best, because I'm still in a really really bad place in my head and attempting to keep a safety distance from any nice single guys, lest they end up broken too. But, as I've said before, I am a lucky and well-loved girl, and I can't see the point in being sad over something like Valentine's Day. Someday, maybe, but not yet. Not when there is champagne to drink and dance movies to watch and people to hug whenever I need them.
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