It's time for my favorite holiday again -- International Women's Day, when women in Russia are given flowers, candy, best wishes for success, and, more often than not, the chance to cook for and clean up after their male partners, who often get a bit carried away toasting to the fair sex.It has always been a source of bewilderment for me that women get so excited that one day out of 365 is devoted to them. I never did buy the old routine that March 8 was the female answer to Feb. 23 -- Soviet Army Day, widely celebrated as the "male holiday." Any woman who has lived here for any length of time can tell you that every day is Men's Day in Russia. As with everything else in this country, International Women's Day ain't what it used to be. Many of my friends are complaining that the old rituals have been abandoned -- the endless bouquets to every female in your life from your son's kindergarten teacher to your neighbor's cat have largely gone the way of the five-kopek subway ride. And for much the same reason -- economics. With roses priced at up to 12,000 rubles a stem, holiday largess can end up costing several months' salary.


Another aspect of the holiday -- work-time celebrations -- officially disappeared during the anti-alcohol campaign of the Gorbachev years. Judging by my Saturday morning walk, the men in my neighborhood have decided to forgo the work part, and keep the celebration: At 8 A.M. our park was full of merrymakers reeking of vodka, and liberally hailing and congratulating women as they strolled by.


Women's Day has always seemed a uniquely Soviet holiday to me. I was surprised to learn that it predates the Revolution by several years. It was dreamed up in Copenhagen in 1910 by a bunch of female socialists, and imported to Russia in 1913. So, for 81 years, women here have had to put up with high-flown rhetoric and limp carnations.


But, all feminist carping aside, Women's Day was one of the more civilized holidays in the Soviet calendar -- at least they didn't drag out tanks and rockets to celebrate it. And, as a Western friend of mine put it, "I wish we had it in America. I'm not a mother, so Mother's Day's out. And Valentine's Day is always depressing if you're not seeing anybody. I think it's kind of nice to have a holiday for every woman."


That's one way of looking at it, I suppose. But my years in Moscow have soured me a bit on the custom.


There was the time, a few years back, when old Fedya turned up at my dorm on the eve of the holiday with a bottle of champagne and a handful of wilted flowers. He was two hours late for our date, since he and the boys at work had been earnestly celebrating Women's Day. By the time he got to me, he could barely stand, and the holiday consisted of Fedya nursing his hangover while I fumed. He made up for it the next day, though -- along with thousands of other happy couples, we stood in line at McDonald's. I got my International Women's Day Big Mac, and had to be content with that.


I don't really begrudge the women of Russia their holiday. Actually, I enjoy the attention, too. I just wish we didn't have to work so hard the rest of the year to get a little respect on this one day in early spring.