Ah, it's that day again. The day when millions of people celebrate the death of some Catholic saint, although no one's sure which one so they just do all three of them, by sending their loved ones 8p cards from ASDA and and a poor teddy bear trapped in a plastic tube yearning to be free.

And of course, like everything else, it's based on an old pagan festival. Although not one I like or would ever want to partake in. People back then were quite, quite strange. And disgusting.

But while some of us will be getting lucky tonight (we all know sex is the only reason most people bother with this holiday...or anything, really) many others will be sad and alone, wondering why no one loves us as we cry into our extra large tub of Ben and Jerry's.

You would be forgiven for thinking that I am describing myself, for it is true that I am without a special someone to call my own, but in fact I will not be partaking in the annual single-girl ritual this evening. And it's not just because I've run out of ice cream, which is in itself a minor disaster that will need to be rectified post haste. No, it is simply that...I don't care.

Yep, I don't care. I thought I would, but I don't. Maybe it's because last year I did have someone and still didn't get anything. Maybe it's because I see through all the commercialism enough not to need to complain about it. Or maybe it's because I've resigned myself to never being loved and dying alone. No, not that last one. That's too depressing, go for the more optimistic choice.

But whatever the reason, I feel fine. And despite being alone I did get wished a Happy Valentine's Day. By a Big Issue seller. =)