I can honestly say with hand on heart - and yes, I appreciate the irony of that - that I'd completely forgotten it was Saint Valentine's Day this week. I'm not an unromantic person when I put my mind to it and I've seen enough people fall madly in love and not kill each other to know that it can happen and it can be wonderful, fluffy and wuvvy-duvvy and that Cupid can be one hell of an archer when he puts his little cherubic mind to it.
Then again, unless I'm seriously involved with someone at this time of year then it's the kind of day that sneaks up on me and then runs off into the mist to read Cosmopolitan. I can't forget Christmas Day (25th of Dec again, this year, right?) and woebetide anyone who forgets my birthday (6th May, mark it in your diaries now, true believers!) but despite the over-stuffed card shelves and the 200% inflation on roses, it kinda passes by despite the commercialisation. Even if I was Love God McMosby (the rumours are wrong, I'm not) it would still feel a bit... exaggerated. Who needs an *excuse* when you're all loved up?
So...if you ARE with the one you love, then feel free to buy them the chocs, the roses and that tastefully risque underwear... but more important just tell 'em you love them. Forget diamonds, it's those words that are priceless. If you're not canoodling with a soul-mate then at least have FUN and remember there's still a host of official 'days' and 'holidays' in the year ahead in which we can all feel great about ourselves and be spoiled anyway.
So, groupies of the world, don't feel bad about not sending me a Valentine's Day card. Again. I'll live. Somehow. But forget to send me chocolate over Easter... and Cupid's arrows will be no match for Mr. Bunny's Uzi.
xxx
