Why I probably still have that book you lent me

Netflix's business model is ingenious. Sean and I joke that we are their favorite type of customer; the kind that gets excited enough about it to sign up for Three movies unlimited!, and then keeps those same three movies for almost a year. At some point we just need to accept that if we haven't watched Running with Scissors yet, we probably won't get around to it any time soon - but I'm getting off topic.

In an effort to not feel like I am throwing twelve dollars a month out the window, I decided to peruse their new releases and spice up the queue. I came across a romantic comedy called He's Just Not That Into You. It looked like a OK rental. Then I saw that it was based on a book. Well, I have to read the book before I watch the movie I told myself. When I went to the library to pick up the book, I was surprised to discover that it was actually a non-fiction dating self help book. Huh, I thought.

To make a long story unnecessarily long, I have this personal rule that I have to finish every book that I start (insert bible joke here). He's Just Not That Into You is a rather short book, but was actually pretty hard to get through. First of all, while I was reading it, all I could think about is how depressing this movie is going to be. It's basically a description of the million ways you can tell that the guy you like doesn't like you back. Secondly, reading the book made me realize apparently there have been a number of guys who were just not that "into me" (who wants to think about that?) and lastly, it appeared that even the writers were not super-confident in the probability of ever finding a guy that is "into you". Really, if I were single, reading this book would probably have sent me to the pet store to buy a plethora of cats.

So here we are, two weeks later. We still haven't watched Running with Scissors, but I just came across a new release called Marley and Me...

Square one and such

So, the sale fell through. I was devastated on Friday, because Thursday we had found a place, but now I've settled into mild disappointment. I guess what it comes down to is that I can't justify mourning an apartment we never actually had. Even if it was so close we could taste it...

Sometimes this whole house sale thing feels like that nightmare where you really need to get somewhere and for whatever reason you are moving in slow motion. Usually when I have that nightmare, I am in a pet store and somehow all of the fish have gotten out of the tanks. They are all flopping around on the floor and I have to help them get back into the water except all I have is a metal spatula. Then I look down and I am wearing these really big heavy boots and I have to also try not to step on the fish.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that we need to sell this house, so that I can take these boots off.