I'll start off by saying this: Hell, I'm pleased Valentine's Day falls on a weekend this year.

Don't get me wrong, I love Valentine's Day. When I have somebody to latch myself onto ? skin-on-skin, that is.

Valentine's Day for the coupled is a (usually) glorious affair. It's a day where you can openly shower someone with love ? even if you're the best of the I-Hate-Hallmark-Holidays cynics.

But be honest, you'll wait with a spark of anticipation to see how your loved one showers you back. Valentine's Day is an excuse to exercise the cheesiest of gestures, or to regroup with a night of romance.

It can even save marriages. Granted, it has torn many apart as well. But that's not the point of today's discussion.

I'm just relieved that I don't have to "ooh" and "aah" at my married colleagues' twelve long-stemmed red roses delivered to their desks. And pretend that I'm ever so delighted by their special Valentine's gift.

But, come Sunday, I don't exactly plan to mope in front of 'Carte Blanche' and Derek Watts' tweed suit either.

Traditionally, Valentine's Day is a "couple's thing". And traditionally, women were meant to stay pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen. Just look at how that turned out.

So to celebrate all things changing gender-wise, I plan to up my intimacy-levels all on my own.

I won't be attending the anti V-Day party I was invited to ? largely because I don't want to come home feeling liberated by resentment for every man that walks the planet, and then in a fit of despair, throw my fax machine into the bathtub with me.

Instead, I'll be taking out a group of my feistiest, funky friends and embark on a "One-Night-Stand-A-Thon". Because if Valentine's Day is all about sharing the love, why should it only be designed for exclusivity? We've found a loophole, and instead of focusing on misery and/or one particular person, we're planning to dine out. On whatever manna from heaven befalls us.

I'm taking a leaf from the lesbians that live next door to me. Frankly, they've got balls. Each year, they dedicate February 14th to the cataclysmically controversial activity of swinging.

Their theory relays to the point that they spend every other day of the year showering each other with gay affection, so in the true spirit of Valentine's Day, they spread their love a little further than what you or I, as more conservative individuals, probably would. And in a smorgasbord of red rose petals, the nubile lesbians share themselves around.

So, in a less drastic attempt to measure up, my girlfriends and I are shamelessly going to spoil ourselves with the fruits of Single Men-dom.

One night stands are generally frowned upon, due to the sheepish embarrassment that comes with the morning after. Usually though, one night stands are a mistake, born out of too many vodka gintinis, with no initial or direct intent to bed a perfect stranger.

We plan to make zero mistakes, and therefore are going out prepared. Red condoms will be tucked into the clutch purse ? cherry-flavoured and extra-strength. One night stands aren't exactly notorious for being safe, so we're equipping our handbags with equipment for his equipment. And we might as well be festive and go for the red, all in cheer for the day of lurve.

So, while the smug marrieds dine at Fino's and drink chardonnay before retiring home for a bout of missionary, I'll be heeling up, gloving up, and drinking up, all in the name of spreading the love.

All while Saint Valentine nods his head in approval.