He said, "Why don't you go by yourself? You go to the movies by yourself all the time."
But, see, it's Saturday night. And I'm going to go ahead and confess this now: I don't go to the movies by myself on date nights.
Ugh. I know. I'm Charlotte from Sex and the City. And Charlotte is the dumbest one!
"What did you do last night?"
Carrie: "Went to a movie."
Charlotte: "With who?"
Carrie: "Myself."
Charlotte: "On date night?"
Carrie: "Are we still gonna have to call it 'date night' in our 50s?"
Charlotte: "I'd think that all the people would be looking at me thinking, 'That poor, pathetic girl'."
Miranda: "Like the way I'm looking at you right now?"
I actually have been to the movie by myself on a Saturday night before. I went to see Love and Other Drugs while Jacob went in another theater to see Shoot Scream Murder Ball 3. Nope, not a real movie but I think I probably captured the essence of whatever it was.
And it was fine. No one pointed at me and laughed.
But I just prefer not to go to a movie by myself on a Friday or Saturday night. I mentioned this aversion I have to going out alone on "date night" to my mother last year, and she acted like I was too old for that sort of thinking.
And I realized I AM TOO OLD FOR THAT KIND OF THINKING. Thanks a lot, Mom.
Still, here I sit watching Tyler Perry's Cheat Lie Oh No You Di'n't on Lifetime instead of seeing an award-worthy film. The only thing worse than a Tyler Perry comedy (I'm using that word loosely) is a Tyler Perry drama.
I'm too tired to leave the house anyway. I spent a good part of the day painting Kate's room. The past three years, her room has been chocolate brown. This was a compromise after she asked me to paint it black. Now it's a bright and cheery coral (Old World by Benjamin Moore).
While I painted, I listened to songs by Robyn. I am obsessed with her music right now. It is the perfect soundtrack for getting your ass moving again after a long hibernation.
My favorite:
This week was a good week. I got two pieces of good news.
And here's the thing: I found myself feeling very hesitant about it all. Or maybe nervous is a better word. I felt like I didn't want to make too much noise about it because the universe might come along and rip the rug out from under me again.
Which brings me to the wise thing my amazing friend Jen said to me this week:
"Good and bad things are going to happen whether you enjoy the good times or not."
She's absolutely right. She also said, "You have got to come to Nashville soon and go out with us. We are going to show you such a good time!"
So I'm going to Nashville. I'm very tired of sitting on my sofa. I'm ready to get out into the world again. I know we still have February to tackle, but I can practically see spring from my backyard. And I feel optimistic for the first time in a long while.
I used to be an incredibly optimistic person. My mom said to me last spring that she loves me no matter who I am, but she missed the girl who believed she could do anything. And I look back on that person I used to be and I wonder how she was so confident all the time and how she believed that everything would work out.
Maybe that girl just needed a little break from the world for a bit, but I think I can feel her in here somewhere. I think she might be getting her mojo back. I think she might believe again that everything is going to work out.
I think she might need to stop talking about herself in the third person.
I'm feeling so positive, in fact, that this morning when I heard some old man at Starbucks refer to Obama as Hitler, I didn't even get worked up about it. I just laughed. I mean, seriously, Hitler?
Hey, listen, if in four years we've experienced another world war and a Holocaust and hundreds of thousands of people have lost their lives in horrific ways, I'll be the first to admit I was wrong.
But for now, I'll bet you $10,000 that in four years, a new democratically-elected president will take office. Obama will go on to lead the glorious life of an ex-president. He will do speaking engagements for ridiculous sums of money. He will pop up at awards shows for all those damn Hollywood liberals. (I mean, really, Bill Clinton has it made). He will stop graying so damn fast. And you, old dude at Starbucks, will still have your guns. So calm the fuck down, please.
Eh, OK, maybe I got a little worked up.
Anyway, if you're not feeling the Weirdly Positive Zombie Treehouse vibe, have I got something for you! If you don't love this, then you're beyond help. So watch this now:
"I think we all need a pep talk."
Take the road that leads to awesome.
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