Anyone remember the elementary school assignment of bringing in a shoebox that you would then decorate to be a Valentine's mailbox? It was a pink and red and glitter-fied receptacle of sugar, and I loved it. I'm not sure if this tradition still continues in today's no-holiday-is-politically-correct environment, but I hope it does.
As an adult, Valentine's Day can be an eyeroll-inducing holiday and it feels like you're titter-tottering between the pricey prix fixe dinner ending with a lame dessert with hearts on it and surrounded by cheesy couples that leave you (terrified) asking "are we one of them?" thing and the let's just blow this lame holiday off and not do gifts this year because love is the opposite of buying into this commercialized forced romance thing. Both extremes are, simply put, the worst.
Which leads me to my suggestion, which obviously aligns with the maxim of leave no holiday behind. There is a magic to Valentine's Day - it's the awe and wonder and giddiness you remember feeling as a child when your classmates would drop candy and Eckerds-bought Valentine's Day cards into the shoebox you poured your blood, sweat, and glitter tears into. Bring back that magic by becoming the shoebox. In other words, dear reader, be pink and red and glitter-fied (by dressing as such) and consume all the sugar and love your heart desires. Today's post gets you halfway there - the rest of operation celebrate-love-in-a-hopeless-place is up to you.