Happy Imbolc everyone! Well, it was Imbolc until about 3 hours ago. Now it's just February third. For those of you who don't pay attention to pagan religion, this is the non-Christian version of Valentine's Day which dates all the way back to before ancient Rome. In fact the way in which the Romans practiced it (which I find very amusing) is that their priests of Pan would run through the streets with goat pelts, whacking women in order to bestow a blessing of fertility. Needless to say, I much prefer the modern Hallmark version of Imbolc, filled with chocolates, flowers, cards, hugs and kisses.
So Valentine's Day is closing in on me. In just twelve days, I'll be able to look back on my life and see what a failure my romance life is. Yes, I was one of those sad depressed people in high school who never got anything Valentine related on Valentines Day. I might have worn black once in protest, but I can't seem to remember. It seems tacky now that I think of it. I think a more effective protest would have been to carry a big sign that says "I hate you all, you cowards who can't see beyond the surface!" Though, being obscure as ever, I don't think anyone other than I would understand what I meant. Maybe it'd be better that way, I'll just be misunderstood. Or maybe I'll just be bitter and mope as usual.