Everybody is talking about Valentine's Day (ad nauseam) already. Between fancy dresses, thoughtful DIY gifts, and "I don't need no man!" misandrist rants, it's a wellspring of blog content. Well guess what. It's yet another pointless consumerist holiday. Neither B nor I can truly fathom the hubbub behind V-Day. There's nothing wrong with our relationship, I promise. We just don't do made-up holidays. Thirty dollars for roses? Antacid hearts with corny phrases on them? Mystery-filled chocolates? (Seriously, I swear the candy makers are trolling us and half of them are filled with toothpaste.) Why get all gussied up and have an uncomfortable dinner in an overcrowded restaurant when you can do something unexpected like going to a trampoline park (yes, they exist) or scoping out some wet cement in which write your initials? Trust me. There's a better way.