I spent Valentines alone.

Well, not exactly alone alone. More with family alone. The sort of SO-less alone.

To be honest, I have no idea what to feel. On the one hand we have that, as a friend of mine observed, Valentines is just "Commercial Exploitation Day", that day in which we all buy lots of satin hearts and Milk Tray to sacrifice to the great god Hallmark, who duly rapes us up the ass along with Woolworths and anywhere else that decides that it's time to add a few more zeroes to the bank balance.

And then theres, well, the unashamed displays of affection it brings. Hey, we're bombing, shooting, maiming, torturing, may as well take the time away to be quiet with a loved one.

Me? The one person I would have wanted to spend Valentine's with lives a few hundred miles away and isn't interested in anything more than the odd IM convo occasionally. I suppose that's just my fucking luck. Considering I have all the charm, etiquette, looks and social prowess of a breezeblock and am therefore unlikely to meet anyone round here it'd be nice to have a non-one way relationship with someone. As the catbox topic said...nope, I didn't get any valentines cards. Not even one of those Flash e-greeting cards, not even a link to that vomit-inducing b3ta cartoon of a singing kitten (one of a few million). Zip. Nada. Zero.

Of course, every time I keep reminding myself of that, I keep correcting myself:

"No, Joe. The reason you didn't get any Valentines cards/e cards is precisely because you were reading the catbox topic. Face it: all day Saturday you were reading The Independent (real lady killer is that, nothing like hard facts and news to get you pussy, same way as CNN makes you popular) and adding sarky stuff about SCO to the school's internal Wiki. You do, indeed, have all the charm, etiquette, looks and social prowess of a breezeblock, and you're not doing much about it."

I may as well forget it. Another Valentines Day, spent alone.

It doesn't matter-it's all commercial...isn't it?