In days of yore, when courting someone, it was appropriate to buy red roses or, if you were very wealthy, to present your loved one with jewelry - a signature cut canary diamond necklace and earring set from Harry Winston.

In today's world a custom made CD, full of carefully chosen songs, is the perfect dating gift. And yesterday evening I got not one but two from Will, with an appropriate card wishing me all the best for my trip to Miami. Aw shucks! And I am only going for four and a half days. He really makes me all misty eyed, ya know.

Anyway - once I got over the gorgeous thoughtfulness, I began looking at the chosen song titles in more detail and began to ponder over their deeper significance:

"I Want Your Sex" by George Michael - good.
"Hot White Cum" by Liz Phair - tres bon.
"Say Goodbye" by Dave Matthews - bad.
"How Many Lix" by Lil' Kim - depends on my mood.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Or maybe that should be why do I do this to myself? Am I so jaded that I have to try to see the tiniest fault or flaw in even the nicest, most thoughtful gesture? If so that is really sad.

It does make me more like Miranda in SATC though, and I have to say that in the last few series she has WORKED, work, work, fierce, work.

So maybe it is good to be slightly jaded. Maybe it is a bit of armor to protect us against the shit life throws at us from time to time.

The shit today is in the form of snow. Lord knows how many times I almost lost my footing on the way to work this morning. It is deeply humiliating nearly falling over all the time. In some ways it is actually worse than falling over, cause you keep adopting these really unflattering poses to get your balance back.