There is only one day in the entire year that I would wish I had a boyfriend and that's on Valentine's Day. And it's not because I want someone to send me roses. I don't really care for roses. And it's not because I would love a box of chocolates. I would honestly rather have a really great mocha latte. The only reason I really wish I had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day is so that I would have someone to dress up for, someone to take me out to a lavish, dressy dinner. Does that really make me insensitive?
Boyfriend or no boyfriend, I have the best Valentine's Day of my life planned for tomorrow. My valentine is Andrew McMahon. Doesn't ring a bell? Drew, as I like to call him, is the lead singer of Jack's Mannequin (and, occasionally, Something Corporate). I have tickets to their concert tomorrow night and I have been blasting tunes like "I'm Ready" and "Holiday From Real" on repeat for hours now. You know, just so I can sing along to every word and all.
If you don't have plans tomorrow, aside from watching relationship-y girls get showered with red roses (Don't they know how cliched flowers are?) and chocolates (I hope they gain ten pounds), head over to their myspace and sing along with Drew and I. I'll tell him you said hi.
Sidenow: There is a chance that the weather will squash my hopes of the! best! v-day! ever! by either 1) preventing me from making the two hour trek or 2) preventing "Jack" & Co from making the three hour trek so keep your fingers crossed for us. I'll send cupid karma your way.