And I just want to point out that I forgive you for outwardly skipping over me every single year -- clearly you don't feel that I'm worthy of being shot in the ass with your ridiculous golden "desire" arrow.

On the one hand, I thought, how sad to buy flowers, champagne, and nice food and look forward to an evening spent with me, myself, and I. But, on the other, what could be better? No, expectations, no disappointments, just me, myself, and I. And all three of us like it that way.