Whoda Thunk.

The above translation of "who'd have thought" is something I've found myself mumbling several times over the past few days. I'm often asked whether or not I believe in fate. My usual response is that it's a load of BS people use to make themselves feel better about potential for the future. Well yeah I still have that opinion, although recent evidence has caused some doubt.

Over the past few days and weeks I've been doing my best to find the negative aspects of an entirely positive situation. I've been focusing entirely on what might go wrong or what might make it difficult, rather than what was so positive or optimistic. Call it doubt or a lack of self-confidence, but I really wasn't seeing what was right in front of me. If the world was perfect no one would know it. If a relationship was perfect it would be boring. One only has to look as far as my parents to realize that conflict keeps things interesting and is part of a functional relationship.

So yeah I'm getting around to a bit of a news event here. Kind of interesting that during the entire life of this blog I've always been single. Well last night I decided the drought should end. It was actually kind of interesting the way it happened. We went to this Chinese buffet restaurant which was all you can eat for like $7 which was a pretty sweet deal, and anyway they bring the fortune cookies at the end and I eat mine and it's something lame about showing passion towards what I'm doing or something which I just sort of shrugged off. My car of people was the last to leave and as we're getting up I notice that there's one more fortune cookie at the end of the table that has been left. I of course snag it immediately and upon busting it open find not one, but two fortunes. I'm going to edit this with the exact quote of the first one which I of course kept later, but it was something like "romantic attachments are not always logical, nor rational." The second said something along the lines of "you never know what will happen until you try." I tend to be a pretty spontaneous person, and it's one of those totally random things that will usually swing me off the fence into a decision. Well, that and 8 happens to be my favorite number, and that was the date. So off we go later that night on a moonlit walk down to the lake by the golf course, which has become my new favorite place on Maxwell. Breaking tradition there was no preparation whatsoever, and thus I spent several minutes stumbling around in circles before eventually saying what I'd dragged her down there in the dark and cold to say. Sometimes command of the English language just doesn't suffice.

So what we have here is a new challenge I'm facing. When writing notes back and forth when in the large lecture auditorium, I recently busted out some spur of the moment poetry towards this now significant other. The last two lines are probably the most relevant.

"What will happen next, who really knows.
We'll see if across the Atlantic, only water flows..."