For almost as long as I can remember, I've hated Valentine's Day. But this year, I've decided to do something about it. My total and complete animosity toward February 14th dates back, I believe, to kindergarten, wherein we were forced to make cards for every person in the class—including Zachary, the class bully, and Noah, who creepily called me his bride and (more offensively) read better than I did. This struck me as uncomfortably insincere.
