Valentine's Day: glad there's something good on TV.

It's official: any time I think I might have a crush on a boy, I discover that they make me insane. And I don't mean "in a fun way," I don't mean "with desire," I mean "they turn my otherwise perfectly good brain into a place of random misfiring and the blurting of inappropriate things."

The one notable, dare I say critical, exception, being the one I married. Uh, not that I didn't misfire and blurt, but that he found it charming and understandable, and thought more of me rather than less. Hence, the marrying, because really how could I ever let that go? Thanks, babe. I love you.

Other boys who deserve my thanks today include Dan, who high-fives my revelations of inappropriateness, gives advice, and otherwise acts as the big brother I never knew I needed, and Ben, who accomplishes some of the same kinds of affirmation with flirting. Variety is the spice of life.

At this moment I feel I should give a shout-out to the girls in my life, who almost never make me quite so unhappily crazed, crushes notwithstanding. I can't say for sure whether it's gender socialization or just your general excellence, but I appreciate it.