tidbits

Bill O'Reilly never sent me a signed copy of his book, so I stopped watching his show. (It also may be because I don't have cable anymore, and when I do have access to the Internet, I watch clips on billoreilly.com. So no, I don't really have any principles, thanks for asking.) It's probably for the best, because if he had acknowledged me on his show, some producer probably would've been awestruck by my brilliance and beauty, and then I would've become another one of those "discovered on YouTube" stars. I'm trying to keep it classy, like Doris Day. I can't imagine Doris Day ever making a YouTube video.

I was sitting in Panera Bread with my laptop, because I don't have Internet in my apartment, when all of a sudden his (and by "his," I mean my laptop, because he has a gender, and it is male) screen went blank and he lost consciousness. I can't restart him, and so now not only do I not have Internet or cable in my apartment, but now I can't even listen to music or type anything.

So let's recap: Bill O'Reilly ignored me, and I can't watch TV, get on the Internet, write, or listen to music. The "entertainment" category in my life right now is pretty low.

I guess this means I should pick up Gone with the Wind again, which I packed away in my move and in which still have 500 pages left to read. Or I could whip out my notebook and write with a pen, like writers used to do. Or I could journal, which I haven't done in weeks, because talking to people is much more fun. Instead, I rented The A-Team from RedBox at Kroger and stopped it halfway through because it was stupid, and I was tired.

I went to the gym to inquire about a gym membership, too, and talked to the woman for 45 minutes about youth, family, beauty, jobs, and her boyfriend. She was very friendly, and I enjoyed talking to her, but now I feel bad that I don't want to join her gym. I don't like letting people down. I have already come up with many excuses as to why I can't join her gym.
 
"Hi, Julie? It's Heather. Um, I'm sorry, but I was walking down the stairs the other day and....my tibia snapped in half. Yes, my tibia. And then...my fibula. And then my clavicle...which I know is nowhere near my tibia and fibula, but...it just all happened...at once...and the bones were just all snapping...so many bones snapping...so I can't work out...please don't be mad at me."

I'm not good at losing friends.

My laptop has been fixed (so much happens in the space between paragraphs, doesn't it?), but now I can't figure out how to change him back to the way I had him before. You know, like if you have this husband who made all these habits over the 25 years that you were married, and then he has a brain injury and forgets everything, and he has to relearn these things all over again. No, Compy, you go to sleep when I TELL you to go to sleep! (Okay, so it's not quite like having a brain-injured husband....) Moral of the story: When someone tells you that something could be so much better, just say, "No, thank you, I like things the way they are." Words to live by.