today's post: nothing

short of dating yourself, the only better thing is to have a great date with another person. and oddly enough, while i always have something to write about my bad dates, i have nothing to say about the really good ones. (that's why this, what i'm saying right now, is appropriately titled "nothing")

now why is that? well, perhaps because being happy is just so much less interesting to read and write about than being annoyed. i can't come up with pithy one-liners, be punchy or sarcastic, or state random but commonly-held assumptions and tout them as fact.

then there's the possibility of jinxing good things by talking about them, similar to my familiar jinx of my relationships by framing pictures of us. (wanna kill your relationship fast? put a little piece of wood around a photo of you, or one of you and him. and bingo, the jealous relationship gods will decree that the TIME has come.)

there's also the sort of internal awe that one experiences when there is a lack of conflict and abundance of common interests. it's sort of a hmmm, what is this thing called compatibility?

darned if i know. better that i don't. i'd likely wreck it.