Hallmark would be so proud

In honor of Valentine's Day, I wanted to share a column that I wrote 10 years ago (damn, was it that long already?) as a weekly columinist for my college paper, the TCU Daily Skiff. This seemed to go over pretty well, and my poor boyfriend at the time, David (now a good friend), caught a bunch of crap walking around on campus that day...you'll see why.

My most memorable Valentine's Day happened five years ago (now, actually 15). I went shopping with a friend of mine who wanted to buy her boyfriend a present... she chose the ever-popular condoms. We hid the package in case we saw anyone who might recognize us behind our wigs and mirrored sunglasses. We finally reached the cashier, and as she scanned the condoms, we noticed that the price didn't register.

We heard a loud voice, almost as though it came from God Himself, over the P.A. system: "I need a price check on the condoms at register five." Needless to say, I've never bought another package of condoms again (okay, that was a lie).

In honor of Valentine's Day, this column is designed to help out all of you confused Y-chromosomers, who will never understand us Xs. I'm going to share some of those all-time secrets that we women possess. Don't worry girls, I won't spill the good ones.

We never go to the bathroom alone because that the perfect opportunity to talk about YOU. It's too difficult to comment about your beautiful eyes or your nasty outfit in front of your face, so we must excuse ourselves. The reason we despise your eyes drifting to other subjects of our genders is that it makes is feel somewhat inferior. After all, you're in our company, so your attention shouldn't drift. If you feel the need to gaze away, then it says you aren't interested enough in us to stay focused.

We like to buy a CD to listen to that one love song over and over because it probably reminds us of you. Maybe it was during the first movie we saw. Perhaps it was playing on the radio during our first date. One of my all-time favorite scenes is when John Cuzack plays "In Your Eyes" to Ione Skye in Say Anything. We all want that.

Yes, PMS does exist. It's not a myth concocted as an excuse for us to be moody. It's a hormonal change that sometimes causes such extreme cramps that you can't help but be a little less chipper. Guys, imagine a knife jabbing in and out of your stomach for three days. See how cheerful you'll be.

We really can speak to each other without moving our lips. I have no idea why an arched eyebrow can say "Becky, this guy's breath is so bad that it singes my eyelashes." It just does.

There was an article in the Nov. 1994 issue of Glamour called "The World According to He & She." I dare you to count how many statements that you've often wondered about:

She has the hardest time believing: that it really is hard to pick up the phone and ask a woman out; that he can't read her mind the way she can read his; that he simply doesn't see the mess; that he can own the same underwear for years; that if he seems like he's angry and doesn't want to talk, it means he's angry and doesn't want to talk.

He will never understand that: she can simultaneously drive on the freeway and put make-up on without crashing; that just because she has a closet full of clothes doesn't mean she doesn't need more; that she really is full after a salad; that if seems she's angry and doesn't want to talk, it means she's angry and DOES want to talk.

I hope these little insights into the female mind have enlightened those of you who have given up on us. Don't forget that it's never how much you spend on us; it's what you put into it. If any girl isn't appreciative of your effort, then she isn't worth your heart.

A last bit of advice for those of you who have to run to the grocery store to snatch that last decrepit rose: please take the price tag off the wrapper.