Did not have nice Valentine's Day AT ALL.

Was planning to go out to pleasant relaxing dinner with boyfriend and consume numerous pleasant relaxing cocktails along with delicious meal, revel in smug glow of actually having a boyfriend on V-Day after years and years of being single and bitter...unfortunately, fate decided to punish me for my smuggitude and I was felled with virulent stomach flu...met boyfriend, who was all dressed up and looking delectable and then proceeded to throw up on the street in a trash can (once) in plastic bags on the train on the way to house of boyfriend (twice) at house, in toilet (once) and then was feverish and moaning and fell asleep at 7:30. So romantic.

Am trying to take comfort in fact that boyfriend has now seen me throw up three times and apparently still likes me. Although he did say this morning that my breath smelled like a monkey's ass and I should not go near him (this was after copious teeth brushing and other desperate acts of oral hygiene.)

It's amazing, the looks people give you when you puke in public. I want to start a campaign for more tolerance and respect for those who engage in public regurgitation. After all, nobody does it on purpose.

Sadly, I think Valentine's Day will always be Vomit Day in my head from now on. And all the chocolate hearts in the world can't take away the memories.