If I were to make a list of the things I like most, Valentine’s Day would come in slightly after a tailbone cyst.

At the very least it’s the worst holiday of the year. OK, save maybe National Lubricate a Squirrel Day. But Valentine’s Day is a close second.

A lot of people complain about the rampant consumerism of it all. It’s true; essentially St. Val’s day is just another excuse to sell more greeting cards.

And another day of torment for the elementary school student. Luckily, at my school they required students bringing valentines to bring them for everybody.

But I still heard through the grapevine that there were a few girls who thought I was “icky.”

But these are just a couple of the results of a truly horrible day. Valentine’s Day is a lose-lose situation.

I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a passionate relationship or living in a cabin in Montana. V-Day means one thing: stress.

We’ll start off and assume that you’re in a healthy, rewarding relationship. You’ve got yourself a problem: You’ve got to buy a gift.

In fact, you have to buy a gift knowing damn well that it won’t mean nearly as much because it’s expected.

If you buy your honey flowers on Oct. 15, you’re a sweetheart. If you buy her flowers on V-Day, you’re just another schmuck at FTD.

But not only do you have to buy your loved one a gift, you also have to anticipate the value of what they’re getting you and match it.

If you bought a cute little teddy bear that says “I love you,” you may have won some brownie points. Unless, that is, she bought you a gold watch, an Armani shirt and that Kenny Loggins boxed set you’ve been wanting.

If that’s the case, you’re going to be spending “the most romantic day of the year” on the couch.

After all, you should have known that your relationship was past the “loving” stage and into the “loving but also expensive” stage.

Not to mention that you’re going to look a little foolish if you got her a bracelet with “Forever” engraved in it, and she got you a pack of baseball cards.

Come down Icarus; you ain’t gonna score tonight.

As if I even need to mention what’s wrong with Valentine’s Day when you’re not in a relationship.

I think we’ve all been there at one time or another. Or every year since 1987, for that matter.

There is no good reason that not being in a relationship should be any more depressing one day than another. But for one day society decides to rub it in.

You can choose to wallow in your self-pity, listen to Hank Williams and watch porno movies. But let’s be honest, that just makes it worse.

So how the hell are you supposed to spend V-Day if not with a significant other? My advice: Avoid the opposite sex like the plague.

Now I will outline a suggested itinerary for a lonely guy.

I apologize for not being able to do the same for those lonely women out there, but honestly, I don’t know what women do in their free time anyway.

So, Johnny Melancholy, first things first. Don’t rent a movie.

Even if you rent an action movie there’s bound to be a little sex in it, or at the least a gratuitous breast shot, and you don’t need that.

I recommend renting a professional wrestling video. Wrestling allows you to exist, if only for a time, in an alternate fantasy world where things are simple.

Wait — strike simple, and replace it with beautiful.

For wrestling virgins, I would recommend renting either Wrestlemania 3, where Hogan slammed Andre the Giant, or Wrestlemania 13, featuring the epic Brett Hart vs. Stone Cold Steve Austin match.

I’ve made my recommendations, but I know it won’t change the world.

Most of you people are still going to buy into the whole Valentine’s Day notion for one reason and one reason only: nookie.

That’s right, even though you know that the whole thing will probably blow up in your face, you’re counting on attaining a higher order of nookie. The Valentine’s Day nookie, to be exact.

Sure, we all heard the stories in middle school about the one guy, in 1963, who actually got the Valentine’s Day nookie and achieved Nirvana.

So, now every poor sap rolls the dice every Feb. 14 in hopes of attaining that very same nookie.

Not me, though; I am a rock. I’ll be home alone with my wrestling. Because the Undertaker feels no pain, and the Islanders never cry.

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Ben Godar is a junior in sociology from Ames. He hardly suppressed anyone’s civil rights at all this week.