So along with February comes a day that opinion seems to be fairly evenly split on for all sorts of reason, in the form of Valentine’s day. Some see it as a gimmicky day for card companies and shops to cash in, whilst others see it as a great excuse to get all romantic and treat their other halves to thoughtful gifts, a bunch of flowers (hopefully not from a petrol station), and a romantic dinner for two. I’m firmly in the former camp, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the influx of chocolate goodies that fill supermarket shelves; I see it as the perfect excuse to sit and watch a romantic comedy with a huge box of chocolates, to scoff my face until I feel so sick that I don’t want to ever set sight on another chocolate again. My chocolate of choice? Lindt. I have loved Lindt for years, and so I make sure that someone agrees to buy me a box (or two) every time my birthday or Christmas rolls around. Over the last few years, Lindt have added some variations on their chocolate truffles, with white and dark chocolate now in the mix, and even hazelnut milk chocolate (OMG, SO GOOD). Over Christmas I noticed some orange Lindt truffles which were just the most amazing thing I have ever tasted, and so I’ve been rather disappointed not to see them in the shops again since. However, Lindt came to the rescue last week by sending me their Strawberries & Cream Truffles which are just the most delicious, sickly sweet tasting white chocolate creations of all time. I’m not at all fussed by white chocolate, but these are the perfect combination of white chocolate combined with a smooth, melt-in-the-mouth filling packed with strawberry pieces. Nothing short of delicious! Now if this seems like a complete ode to Lindt chocolate, then you’d be right. You just can’t beat it.
I’ve never been fussed about Valentine’s day, whether I’ve been single or not. That’s why my favourite Valentine’s day of all time involved spending three hours getting drunk and having 20 lots of five minute conversations with some complete and utter odd-bods. I went speed dating. After almost a year of being a single pringle, and finally being ready to mingle, a friend and I decided to sign up for speed-dating. We signed up to the 21-35 category, and there were men there who were at least a decade or more over that age bracket. As we steadily got more and more drunk, the night got ever more hilarious. Comparing notes with the other girls in attendance, we learned that one chap had popped to the loo halfway through to perk himself up if you know what I mean, and had come back so half-cut that he could barely string a sentence together. Some guys had prepared a list of questions that were so scripted and unnatural that it felt like being interviewed, and some seemed to be able to do nothing more than sit in silence. A fairly good-looking guy who seemed to have a lot of potential then lost all his gold stars when he sat down and said “Right, five minutes. Who can click their pen the most until the bell rings?” errr… you’re alright mate. I’d rather sit in silence picking fluff off my cardigan.
Odd-bods and stiled conversations aside, speed dating was honestly one of the funniest evenings out I’ve ever had. It was actually a great way to meet female friends, as several of the other girls and I bonded over all the crazy chat-up lines we’d experienced and laughed at all the middle-aged men who had clearly lied about their ages. Ahh, Valentine’s day. Nothing wrong with being a single pringle.
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