and it's been such a lovely day

Wow- Office Space moment to the infinity power: today, I had a phone interview with consultants who are trying to figure out what in the world it is I do for a living. I thought it would be funny to yell out, "I have people skills, damnit!" I refrained, because I know there is the life I lead and the sitcom I write in my head to quell the absurdity of my days.

Tonight, I get my happy pill for the week- watching Friday Night Lights. It is absolutely foolish of me to watch this show. I am so enamored of it that last week, unable to watch while at my parents' house, I eagerly purchased it from On Demand first thing upon returning home. But this is all ill-advised. This is like dating a guy because he's everything you ever wanted, but he's already told you he doesn't want a commitment and he's contemplating moving to a foreign country. Friday Night Lights is that doomed. I just want to point this out- if the monkeys that run NBC decide to pull FNL and not SportsNightStudio 60 on the SNL SorkinSunset Strip, then I will demote them to molluscs. Even a monkey can see that FNL is 100 times more engaging than Studio 60.

Not to mention that FNL has this guy:

Whatever, dudes- happy pills are not made of good writing and pacing alone.

I should mention that there were also a lot of genuinely fantastic aspects of my birthday, although apparently, a lot of you think that many of the aspects of last Friday night were pretty fantastic too. If for no other reason, I should mention it because I got some disappointing news yesterday, and it's important to note at such moments that there are plenty of reasons to be grateful. First, a few of my friends took me out to Chez Papa on my actual birthday. I have been wanting to go there for quite some time, and the food was just perfectly what I was craving. Before and during dinner, my masis and mamas and cousins all called one by one to wish me a happy birthday, which was really thoughtful. In a bit more of a mortifying turn, the waiters brought out my creme brulee with a candle in it, gathered around me, and started singing Happy Birthday. Three French waiters singing Happy Birthday: vaguely embarassing but charming. The entire restaurant raucously joining in after the first line: cheek-flushing, heart-stopping, trying-not-to-pass-out but amusing.

Also, there were sincerely kind birthday emails from both J and TMB, so I am now officially banned from making any disparaging remarks whatsoever about both Southern California and Houston. That is going to be a tough resolution to keep up.

And finally, to wrap it all up, not only did maisnon save my candy a$$ on Friday night, but she also took me out to dinner on Sunday night. We wandered around my neighborhood, found her a hipster hat, had a wonderfully satiating meal, and returned to my crack shack. See, D is going to keep me honest on my resolution to keep the shack presentable, because we are supposed to have a weekly viewing of Lost. Viewing it with her was exactly how I imagined it- very MST3K. It's a good thing too, because that was the only thing that made it watchable. Maybe I can sucker her into a Friday Night Lights addiction instead?