Two months ago, our local indie bookstore formed a Sci Fi club. Great, I thought, a chance to get out of the house and meet other nerds like myself. Maybe (well, highly likely, actually) they'd be male nerds! The first meeting was great. There were 8 members. Last month, only two people showed up--me and one person who hadn't attended the first meeting. Last week, I was the only person who showed up. What's the common factor in all of this?
Me. Could it be that I'm--gasp--hideous? Sure, I've got a small 'stache going, but who doesn't, am I right, girls?I read Bridget Jones's Diary this weekend--finally, 11 years after it came out. I don't know why I resisted. I guess I have a visceral reaction to "chick lit" as a rule. I know, I'm a snob.
It was hysterical; Helen Fielding is so right on when it comes to the whole reaching-your-thirties thing, whether she's writing about dating, dieting or depression eating!