I'm weak. After entertaining constructive (albeit, induced by force) thoughts for the past few days about how this TV meltdown is actually an invitation to use my video-less state as a period of self-assessment and creative discovery, I found myself standing in front of Rent-a-Center this afternoon. Peering longingly in the windows at the widescreen TVs (yours for just $41 a week, no credit required!), I felt a twinge when I realized they were closed. Then I felt lame. Like a junkie pawing at the locked doors of the Methadone clinic.
I mean, come on. Is it really so frightening to be left with only books, music, writing, exercise, and socializing to entertain me for the next 30 days? Uh, hell yes!
Speaking of socializing, there were both ups and downs this weekend. The down was getting an email response to my lunch invitation from Match.com Guy 1. He thinks I'm "very attractive, well read, and smart," but "got a feeling that we're not a match." I think I’m keeping it in its proper perspective, but it's still amazing to set yourself up for rejection – and even paying for the privilege! Ah well. I sent him a pleasant, complimentary "good luck with your hunt" reply. Gee, that was fun.
On the up side, went to see Big Bad Voodoo Daddy at the Fox Theater in RWC last night. The boys were in fine form, and Scotty was scrumptious, as usual. One of the funniest moments was a segue in the middle of "So Long-Farewell-Goodbye" to "Sweet Home Alabama." The crowd went wild! A good time was had by all.
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