Sorry for the many days of not posting. I felt like I was kind of reaching for stuff last week, so I gave my brain some time to reboot. Otherwise this blog might have quickly devolved into a Perez Hilton-type mess with nothing but paparazzi photos and expletives scrawled by what looks to be the hand of a cerebral palsy sufferer.
Also this weekend I cleaned house and got a new couch (thanks to my friend Cristina, who kindly allowed me to defer payment until I am not in a financial hole ... what a sucker) and a new rug (thanks to Jeff's grandparents). Oh, and my mom and I figured out table seating for the wedding (true Type A control freaks, we had everyone's names on little slips of paper, which we painstakingly arranged around large circles). So, you know, not the most interesting weekend, but very productive.
I was really looking forward to last night, though. Why, you ask? The Emmys. I know that sounds like getting excited over, say, a rerun of the Lehrer Report, but let me explain. I LOVE awards shows. I love them with a trusting and unconditional love that basically serves as beer goggles for the heart. I know that they suck, that they are unfunny and anticlimactic, and yet I still look forward to them like Christmas morning. I love watching the pre-shows, seeing the crappy musical interludes, listening to winners' acceptance speeches whether they are heartfelt or stuttering. I just love the ceremony of it all.
The problem is that most people don't feel that way, and there's nothing worse than watching a crappy awards show with someone who doesn't appreciate the crappiness. The Oscars, the Emmys, and the Golden Globes get crappier every year, and in order to enjoy them you have to love them like I do, that is to say, totally irrationally and with no accounting for taste. My dad, who made me this way, is like this, but most people are snooty and proud, preferring to watch things that actually matter and that don't bore them for four hours straight.
I'm not even trying to conceal my bitterness. Next year I'm watching the Emmys alone with a bottle of wine and a package of cookies. And no, that doesn't sound pathetic to me. It sounds like what I hope heaven will be like. And, if I don't make it to heaven, I bet hell will at least have the Tonys.