Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day and all that, but I need to clear something up: Why do single people get treated like wounded animals on this godawful day? Sure, we don't have valentines (i.e. someone to buy us a generic, unsentimental card), but we're not dying or anything. I executed a Friday at work without showing symptoms of wanting to kill my lonely self, so was a little taken aback when I was invited to after-work drinks with what looked suspiciously like sympathetic eyes. After a couple of pints of Rogers to bring in the weekend, people had plans with their loved ones, so we decided to go our separate ways. For me, this meant a slightly wobbly ride home on my death trap of a bike, where an empty house was waiting for me with open arms.

You probably think this sounds a bit tragic, but there's no need to worry about me as I was absolutely content with my plans. I spent the afternoon lost in Love in the Time of Cholera, the book I'm currently reading, cooked dinner for one, then settled myself on the sofa with a beer and some of my wonderful get well soon chocolate from my secret admirer (I'm making it sound romantic because it's V day) to watch the movie Australian TV were offering up for people not gazing into each other's eyes at a restaurant: Valentine's Day. For anyone who hasn't seen this cinematic masterpiece, it's an even more corny, American version of Love Actually; however, it proved to be quite an enjoyable watch.

The main event of my evening was a long, romantic FaceTime with my "date", the lovely Chloe Foreman (who else?). A warning to any potential boyfriends (not that they're abundant): You'll do very well to climb higher than her in my estimations, the girl is basically my life partner. After catching up on the happenings of our lives (work and sweltering heat for me, work and permafrost for her), we inevitably reached the topic of the day, romance, which we dissected with our usual sarcasm. She made the excellent point that her Facebook was flooded with girls wielding a red rose and a Milk Tray, which appears to be the standard response by men in this day and age and is far less than ideal in my eyes. If I'm dating someone this time next year, I definitely do not want to be a victim of such an unoriginal gesture. Yes, it's a dreadful, tacky day and I don't buy into it one bit, but there is the potential to use your imagination and escape the stereotype here gents. Says the eternally single girl... I suppose beggars can't be choosers!