I have a plan. I'm going to breakfast with my Mum and Dad. Now you may think that's the saddest kind of Valentines day: As a third wheel. With your own parents. But you're wrong, my friend. I am on a date. This is a day to celebrate love, all love, unique love, and I love myself. I'm pretty much the most awesome person. Ever. I figure what's the use in dating anyone else? My partner will never be good enough for me. I don't feel the need to enter into the world of self-mutilating phone calls, sublty undermining the other person in the hopes they will lose 20 pounds, secretly hoarding painkillers so you might slip one or twenty into their evening vodka and juice. I'm so non-conformist I don't need to have this typical two-person "relationship" you disgusting regular humans have. I'm so non-conformist I'll also have to kill myself in order to show I've avoided conforming to my own taste, but that's another story. So I will break free of the clutches of social norms, free like an oyster hurtling from your airway after a well-demonstrated heimlich maneuvour. I'll change the world, a revolution will begin.
Or maybe I just know my parents will pay for my eggs benedict. Whatevs.
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