Did you know getting engaged is the leading cause of marriage in the U.S.? Know the facts. Get educated. The Fiancé Fever is sweeping the country, and my Facebook feed, more quickly than a Kardashian files for divorce. No one is safe. Love is literally everywhere.

February is full of white girls suffering from Acute Boyfriend Syndrome: the desperate act of trying to swoop up a man in time for V-day. As a precursor to the Fiancé Fever, symptoms of ABS range from a low-grade depression often resulting from meticulously amassing a secret wedding board on Pinterest, to a moderate or severe depression as a direct result of binging on romantic comedies, often featuring Ryan Gosling.

Tragically, this disorder affects more than 100 billion women each year: All the single ladies. ALL OF THEM.

I, on the other hand, have taken the proper precautions in the perpetual battle against Acute Boyfriend Syndrome, even if it means bringing my mum as my date to another of my peers’ weddings. I haven’t had a great track record with dating. My last breakup was pretty messy…

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[Yeah, I’m not proud of it either. My prom dress was so not quiche. “Blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohooool!”]

I’d like to take a mulligan on the last few years of my dating life. Like Mariah Carey in Glitter, let’s just forget this ever happened. It doesn’t help that all of my girlfriends are bringing men home for the holidays… I brought home a cat, which is still a step up from the last guy I brought home: same amount of hair and quality of conversation, but prettier eyes.

The hype over Valentine’s Day is great… if you’re in a stable, committed relationship that’s never been featured on Teen Mom. I understand the desire to commit an entire holiday to love, but shouldn’t we be celebrating the love in our life every day? I’d be happier with a holiday dedicated to grabbing beers with your best friends: Beerentine’s Day. Then again, I celebrate that fictional holiday all year.

Admittedly, I’m nowhere near the authority on dating & relationships. The most steamy, committed relationship in my life to date has been with pizza… also the entire cast of SNL. But, if I could build my perfect mate, it would go something like this:

  • the face of Ryan Gosling
  • the body of Ryan Gosling
  • (I could end the list here, but…)
  • the hair & suits of Don Draper
  • the voice of Bon Iver
  • the church of Irish Catholic (for my mum, of course)
  • the personality of Michael Scott, regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin
  • the liver of Brett Michaels
  • (JK on that last one)

I like ‘em tall, dork & handsome. I just want to find a guy that will love me as much as Kanye West loves Kanye West. Why settle?

Unlike those tragically affected by ABS, or all of my peers in actual stable relationships outside the realm of reality TV, I’ll be enjoying a pretty satisfying Gal-entine’s Day on my own. Being single on Valentine’s Day means you can do WHATEVER YOU WANT. Also, you don’t have to disappoint anyone (beside your mum who wants you to get hitched & settle down before you’re 40 and have no more “viable eggs”, whatever that means). In any case, fear not, my Gal-entine’s Day will be filled with plenty of pizza, brews, and Bobby Moynihan impressions.

In the meantime, fellow single minglers, we’ll just have to grin & bear all of the schmoozy, gushy social media posts this holiday. A Valentine’s Day post is a lot like Enrique Iglesias’ mole: if you just ignore it long enough, it will go away.

Oh, and if you’re one of the 5 straight men (excluding my immediate family) that read this blog, and you’d like to take me out to celebrate Anti-Valentine’s Day, you can find me at the hardware store, Take Me Home Depot.

XOXO (sarcastically),

M.