There is no point trying to explain my disconnection as a romantic individual. Instead see blog 26 Library Love or blog 41 Not a Lesbian But – which may cast some light.
Having been much sought after in her youth, my gran may have even been embarrassed for me. The only difference between my pre marriage romance desert and post divorce romance wasteland (with kids) is that I learnt to deal with Valentine’s Day torture.
It began at about the age of 14 when the girlie girls began to be inundated with post on Feb 14th and the sporty or underdeveloped or bookish or bolshie or sole non-white in the class or tall and threatening (or all of the above) did not. Accepting that it is as much a commercial fest as Christmas – an opportunity for vendors of cheap choc and red ‘n pink stuff to offload the same – was very liberating. I even added to the situation myself in last Friday’s Valentine Presie emergency blog for those on the other side of the nightmare.
But – so that others don’t suffer as I did - I make this proclamation to all BGOTR readers.Should spiteful friends ask ‘how many did you get’? Or ‘did you get any’? You can answer YES. A big fat YEEEEES.
Let’s face it, in a world where virtual life and so-called reality are increasingly blurred this is a grey area we can happily exploit.
If you click on the orange ‘Amanda Baker’ in the right hand column (where you usually find the cartoons) you will find your valentine card waiting to be downloaded.
I also hereby give you (virtually) some virtual chocolates – guaranteed not to make you fat or rot your teeth or give you diabetes and some virtual flowers guaranteed not to fade or give you hay fever.
Anything else you would wish for V.D. (!*$@?”£^&*!) i.e. for card-vendors, restaurants decked out with bows and flowers, pink bottles of champagne, couples slurping over each other in public to piss off – I also grant you – virtually.
It’s all from
I LOVE YA