I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I feel it’s a rubbish holiday, a day to proclaim your love for your special someone. Forget the other 364 days of the year. If you don’t do something special and awesome for this day, you’re SOL.
If I could ignore the whole day, I would. But I can’t. Because as fate would have it, it’s my birthday too. Yup, that’s right. The girl who hates Valentine’s Day is born on Valentine’s Day. Go figure.
I haven’t done anything special for my birthday in years; however, my favorite birthday tale is my 21st birthday. Like any other newly-legally-allowed-to-drink girl, I went bar hopping. On my birthday. On Valentine’s Day. Not only was everyone buying me drinks, all the single guys in the bars were trying to get more drinks into me in hopes of me hooking up with them.
Oddly enough though, I did have fun. I drank more than I ever drunk before. I flirted with guys. I danced. I sang karaoke (horribly). Best of all, I didn’t spend one dime on myself. The friend I was with only had to buy me one drink, in some stuck-up, fancy bar but other than that, random people bought me and my friend drinks all night.
Sometimes I wish I could turn 21 again every year, just so I can go out and experience a night like that again.
Of course, I don’t do the bar scene anymore. Haven’t stepped foot in one since 2009, in fact, but sometimes I still wonder if I would have fun with it, like I did in the past.
Oh well. Happy birthday to me. I’m drinking alone tonight!