A feminist? This girl? Nah. But come Japanese V-day and its accompanying traditions, which are straight outta the '50s, she doth protest. To explain: remember the days -- the '80s, I guess -- when V-day was marked by $0.25 Michael Jordan cards that set young lasses' hearts aflutter with phrases like "Valentine, You're a Slam Dunk!"? Remember? Well throw those memories into the burnable trash, my friends, because on this side of the Prime Meridian such frivolity is not tolerated. Instead, the ladies are forced into temporarily unrequited chocolate purchasing subservience (whew) while the gentlemen's tastebuds enjoy the production, free from reciprocation until March 14th -- "White Day," a day of duty, I've been told -- when they allegedly repay the favor with cookies. Allegedly.

So I tried to take a stand today, but then I caved. It's a Catch-22, you see -- stuck 'tween a tiger and its exploding . . . yes . . . One must choose betwixt being pegged as either shrew or suckaaaaa. So I bought chocolate milk for the bachelors at work and rode the fine line to victory, maybe. Happy Vday!