A lonely guy and girl escape Valentine's day with a perfect day in the city

When Saturday rolls around, grab some girl friends and escape our school's orgy of non-orgies – take the train to New York and make your own Valentine's Day fun.

Begin your day of self-pampering with the best breakfast in New York, at the world-famous Sarabeth's (92nd and Madison). The restaurant serves gooey cinnamon buns, monstrous muffins and pancakes and waffles so creative they put poor P.J.'s. to shame. When you leave, pick up a jar of their homemade jam that could even make PUDS bagels seem like H & H's.

Set off to the ultimate in window shopping: the Versace exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (82nd and 5th). On display are fashion objects created with extravagant colors and designs. But don't expect to be wearing any of this clothing to the 'Street' any time soon. Beer stains might rust those safety pins (Remember Elizabeth Hurley's infamous dress?).

As you walk on Madison, stop in at p.s. i love you (90th and Madison, the boutique with the ignominious distinction of igniting the slap bracelets trend. Perfect for loading up on last minute presents for gli amici, the store offers an incredible array of useless gadgets and gizmos (like floating pink diaries!) festively arranged in pink, white and red.

Traipsing down Madison past Princeton staples Banana Republic and Ann Taylor, stop at Prada, Gucci, Shangai Tang, F.A.O. Schwarz, Calvin Klein and Dolce and Gabbana along the way to Barney's (61st and Madison). There's even a Versace store where you might be able to snag your own five thousand dollar piece of fabric.

The truest New Yorkers shop on Barney's seventh floor which hosts more black pants than Ivy and Cottage combined. You can also purchase your very own Kate Spade bag, cleverly adapted by industrious Princetonians into the newest book-bag fad.

The ultimate in pampering lies at Georgette Klinger (53rd and Madison), a luxurious salon that packs mud on your face, wraps you in seaweed and buffs your nails to a sparkling shine.

Feeling fresh and newly self-confident, will men like the "new you?" Consult New York's underworld of "authentic" psychics. As you dip down into the side streets lured by Palm Reader signs lit up in dubious pink neon, just remember that it's only slightly more shady than late-night TI.

Forget whether the Alamo has a basement, and move on to the next step: dinner. Go to where gender lines are as stir-fried as the chicken chow fun. While serving delicious Chinese food, the waiters at Lucky Cheng's (2nd St. and 1st Ave.) offer the unusual dim sum of doubling as stripping, dancing Chinese drag queens. Here, the surprises are not just in the fortune cookies.

Continuing dinner's rowdiness, New York's millions of clubs make our beloved Prospect 12 look paltry. You can brave the line at Life (158 Bleecker St.), the club du jour, to make "Members Only" at the Street seem welcoming. Pravda is also a chic venue for sipping martinis and making conversation. For dancing, go to the Tunnel (12th Ave. and 27th St.), but beware the sleazy grinders from our adopted state.

While you may find yourself stranded after realizing the Dinky doesn't run after one a.m., don't feel deserted this V-Day. And hey, you never know, after Pravda, Prada and pumpkin muffins, you might find your Lucky Cheng at the 'Wa.