Ain't nothin' wrong with a single chick on V-Day


I've never had a boyfriend who didn't feel like a 50 pound backpack.

A backpack that whines and needs things from me and that wants to know where I am and why I haven't called.

And I like to disappear sometimes for like a week at a time sans backpack... and that was always a predominant problem in my relationships.

I get stressed out just thinking about putting that backpack on again.

For the first time in my life since 14, I've spent some time being single, and I have to say that I love it, especially one day away from V-Day.

Also, especially because I don't have to watch sports and I don't have to shower as often (yeah ew).

I always think about this one shining example of what I miss the least about having a significant other.

Thinking about it makes me relish languishing in single-dom.

One time, my phone slipped under my mom's minivan seat on the way to Atlantic City and I left it there, thinking, "Whatever, I'll get it later."

Then I spent the entire day with my mamma at the casino and didn't think about my phone at all. We ate crab wontons at P.F. Changs, had some vino, poked through Trop's shops and chased hot slot machines.

On the late-night drive home, I got bored fiddling with the radio and decided to hunt around for the phone. Found it! I say to my mom.

Uh oh, I thought, staring at my phone's recent activity reports. I'm in trouble.

Yup, 11 missed calls, 15 text messages, a one-sided conversation that rapidly goes from--

"Good morning baby!"

to "Where are you?!"

to "?"

to "What the hell, are you ok? I'm worried, please call,"

to "I'm calling your dad,"

to "He doesn't know where you are,"

to "WTF are you??!!!! CALL ME NOW!!"

Better do some damage control, I think. Ugh.

I know he's freaking out, angry and I am totally not looking forward to this call because I'm still riding my I-still-have-a-twenty-in-my-pocket-and-I-left-Atlantic-City high.

I gotta think of a diplomatic way to handle this.

But, as I'm thinking, the phone starts urgently buzzing and flashing in my hand with my boyfriend's name and phone number announcing that he's making call number 12.

I pick it up. I didn't even say anything.

"Where have you been!!" he screams.

I do my best to explain myself and how much fun I had but he's not having any of it.

I know that right now he wants to have a long angry talk about our relationship.

"You can't just do that Leanne! You have people who care about you and they worry." he said.

"It was a random spontaneous daytrip. Sorry that I left my leash at home, my god," I say.

"I'm your boyfriend and it's common courtesy not to go missing for 2 days without picking up your damn phone," he said.

He has a point, I think, but I say, "I feel like hanging up on you."

"That's selfish," he says. "I was worried."

"I'm a big girl, nothing's going to happen to me and I felt like hanging out with my mom, it was spontaneous trip and I don't belong to you so leave me alone," I said, getting angry.

It didn't end there and for the rest of the relationship, he treated my cell phone like a leash and I hated it.

So of course we broke up.

Thinking about it makes me happy that I get to spend V-day present money on myself.

So for my first V-Day on my own, I plan on spending a good chunk of change on a pedicure, some overpriced MAC makeup, five Vikki secret booty shorts and a killer hot pink bra. I might even treat myself to a pair of peek-toe boots.

Which are the best V-Day gifts ever.