what is the word

Love is in the cold, cold air, isn't it? Everytime I say something to this effect (i.e., not cynical & suicidal-sounding), my boo starts flipping out with joy, being the unselfish, kind person she is, & then I in turn start freaking out & taking it back, being the superstitious, paranoid person I am. I'm always worried about jinxing something, but this time I'm not, because there isn't anything to jinx. I just feel weird & good for no reason, that's all. Last nite after a rather surprisingly great time at Mars 2112, where a disparate group of us (Morgan, Mike Toole, my friend Kristina & 2 of Morgan's friends) were enjoying cheap, cheap drinks after work, I got home, smoked the tiniest of bowls by myself & started thinking about mix CDs, of all things. Recently Brigita posted her 25 most frequently played iTunes & I sent her a list of my own in return. Last nite I was downloading songs (Cowgirl in the Sand, Galileo & something I've forgotten) & creating playlists & all that shit that is so new to me & so fun, & I was thinking about a person I wanted to make a mix for (no, not the checkout guy at Tops, actually, someone else) & the songs I wanted to put on it & I felt that giggly nice feeling that means that love & romance & crushes are good things. Lately the question of requited love versus unrequited love has been much on my mind. I'm coming around to the idea that maybe unrequited love is not the world's most horrible thing after all. I remember that feeling, of being tearfully in love with someone who had but the dimmest perception of my shadowy existence, & somehow, that sounds so freeing & so sweet.
I guess that's kind of crazy. Today I feel a bit crazy. Work is crazy & I haven't had time to do anything except this write this poor excuse for a post, which I am hastily typing up over the last of my lunch.
On an unrelated note, did you guys know Paris Hilton's vagina has a blog? I know, I couldn't believe it either.