One is the loneliest number...

Last night I celebrated my favorite holiday (please add giant amounts of sarcasm to "favorite" when reading this...) with my parents. There was a wine pairing dinner at the country club so I joined them and the blue hairs for a wild night out on the town. The dinner was actually pretty tasty but I didn't care for the wine supplied. I think I should've stuck with the champagne. The best part of the meal was when the servers brought out the shared dessert and I got half of one on my plate. Did they have to point out the fact that I wasn't "sharing." I didn't think accompanying them on their Valentine's Day dinner would be so depressing. I hate the holiday, even when I'm seriously dating someone, so I really thought to myself, "no big deal, free dinner, free booze... why complain?" I am not complaining persay but I definitely should have stayed home with a good book, a bottle of wine and my beagle. At least my beagle wouldn't ask me what I'm doing with my life, what my future aspirations are or question me about dating, friends and my perception of homosexuality in the movies- honestly, I don't blame them for being curious. I'm curious too. I just wish I had answers for everyone. I suppose that is more of the problem than them asking me questions- it is that I don't have answers and that frustrates me more than anything else... may be it's time to run away again... anyone up for a trip to Australia?